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THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

OR 

THE GRAY AXEMAN OF MT. CROW 


BOOKS BY HUGH PENDEXTER 

Published by Small, Maynard & Company 

15 beacon street, boston 

Each volume, $1.25, net 

The Camp and Trail 

Along the Coast 

Seties 

Series 

1. The Young Timber- 

1. The Young Fishermen; 

Cruisers; or. Fighting 

or. The King of Smug- 

the Spruce Pirates 

glers’ Island 

Illustrated hy Charles Copeland 

Illustrated by Charles Copelcmd 

2. The Young Gem-Hunt- 

2. The Young Sea-Mer- 

ers; or. The Mystery of 

chants; or, After Hid- 

the Haunted Camp 

den Treasure 

Illustrated by Charles Copeland 

Illustrated by Charles Copelcmd 

3. The Young Woodsmen; 
or. Running Down the 
Squawtooth Gang 


Illustrated by Charles Copelamd 

In Preparation 

4. The Young Trappers; or. 

3. The Young Pilots; or. 

The Quest of the Giant 

Moose 

Seeking the Missing 

Illustrated by Charles Copeland 

Heir 

5. The Young Loggers; or. 

4. The Young Seiners; or, 

The Gray Axeman of 

Fighting the Fish Pi- 

Mt. Crow 

rates 

Illustrated by Charles Copeland 

5. The Young Trawlers; 

In Preparation 

or, The Ghost of Flying 
Island 

6. The Young River-Driv- 

ers; or. Against Heavy 

6. The Young Skippers; or. 

Odds 

The Mysterious Wreck 



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“Jump!” his parched throat managed to shout as the 
maddened animals shot by him, but Bub 
held to the lines. See Page 209. 


FIFTH VOLUME OF THE CAMP AND TRAIL SERIES 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

OR 

THE GRAY AXEMAN OF MT. CROW 


BY 


HUGH PENDEXTER 

it 

Author of “The Young Fishermen,” 
Young Sea -Merchants,” Etc. 


“The 


Illustrated hy 
CHARLES COPELAND 






» ^ 

’ > ' 


BOSTON 

SMALL, MAYNARD & COMPANY 
PUBLISHERS 



Copyright, 1917 

By small, MAYNARD & COMPANY 

(incorporated) 


/ .J 

SEP 22 1917 

IPrfnterg 

S. J. Parrhill & Co., Boston, U.S.A. 


©CI.A476207 

“K-o I • 


TO 

MY DEAR SON 

HUGH 

WHO WANTED ME TO WRITE 
A BOY’S BOOK 
THIS SERIES IS 

AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED 



CONTENTS 


CHAPTER PAGE 

I The Camp in the Storm 1 

II A Mysterious Welcome 15 

III Bub Stands Watch 36 

IV Old Friends 51 

V Abner Explains 71 

VI Off for Camp Crow 88 

VII Tracks in the Snow Ill 

VIII A Peculiar Trail 132 

IX Stanley's Quest 152 

X An Unexpected Adventure 170 

XI Bub^s Narrow Escape 194 

XII The Music on the Mountain 211 

XIII Bub Sees the Axeman 227 

XIV Discipline of the Squawtooth .... 250 

XV The Boys Intercede 279 

XVI Recovering Spar’s Note-Book .... 296 

XVII The Secret of the Lost Trail .... 317 

XVIII The Rescue 337 

XIX Planning to Catch the Axeman . . . 356 

XX Professor Carlton Arrives 371 

XXI The Professor’s Discovery 394 

XXII The Master Surgeon 415 

XXIII Conclusion 431 




LIST OP ILLUSTRATIONS 


his parched throat managed to shout as 

THE MADDENED ANIMALS SHOT BY HIM, BUT BuB 
HELD TO THE LINES. See page 209 . . Frontispiece 

“It isn’t the moon. The camp’s on fire! Run 
FOR IT, boys!” 34 

Gaining new confidence, Stanley played as he had 

NEVER PLAYED BEFORE See page 180 

Crouching low in their hiding-place, they stared 

THROUGH A SMALL OPENING AND WAITED. ThEN 
THEY REALIZED THAT Bub’S PRECAUTION HAD BEEN 
WELL-TAKEN. FOR AS THEY LOOKED THEY CAUGHT 
A BRIEF, FLEETING GLIMPSE OP A TALL, GAUNT 
FIGURE, BOWING LOW AND RUNNING UP THE 
GULLY See page 307 


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1 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

OR 

THE GRAY AXEMAN OF MT. CROW 












THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


CHAPTEE I 

THE CAMP IN THE STOKM 

The sun was off duty for the day, although it 
still lacked some twenty minutes of five o’clock. 
What should have been the ordinary dusk of a 
January afternoon was deepened to a disagree- 
able degree by the low pressing clouds. Three 
travelers, just leaving an extensive area of 
swamp cedars, evidenced by their shuffling 
haste a keen desire to reach shelter before the 
threatening storm should break in all its fury. 
The scene was a desolate one if viewed from 
the perspective of the city-bred boy. The dark, 
gray canopy of the heavens seemed almost to 
rest on the crown of the forest, to be suspended 
from hill to hill, sagging downward over the 
lower levels. The white cedars, thickly clothed 
with foliage near the base, seemed prepared 
for the snow because of their snug wrappings. 
The other evergreens, less thickly adorned, re- 
1 


2 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


signedly awaited the swirling blasts. But the 
deciduous trees, protesting with their naked 
arms, impressed the three boys as shivering 
from the cold. The travelers were the only bits 
of animate life in all the somber landscape. 
Farther south a crow or two would have painted 
dark streaks across the horizon as the rusty, 
ragged wings flapped heavily towards shelter. 
But here in the outskirts of the Squawtooth 
region not even a smoke sent up its amiable wel- 
come, and all nature, except the brewing storm, 
seemed dead or sleeping. 

‘Ht’s no go, fellows,’^ called out the leader 
of the trio as he slowed down his pace. “I 
thought we could make it by a short cut, but 
we Ve lost time. We’re going to be snowed un- 
der.” 

The speaker was Eobert Thomas, generally 
known as ‘ ‘ Bub ’ ’ Thomas, born and bred to the 
ways of the big North Woods. 

‘^Then let’s not waste any more strength in 
trying to run away from it,” said the second 
boy, Stanley Malcolm by name, whose uncle was 
president of the Great Northern Lumber and 
Paper Company, the owner of all the vast 
Squawtooth timberlands. 

The boy in the rear, now moving with lagging 
steps, groaned dismally and insisted, ‘‘Let’s sit 


THE CAMP IN THE STOEM 


3 


down and rest. I could go to sleep this very- 
minute. ’ ’ 

‘^Cub Blaine, you keep hiking till I give the 
word to halt, or youdl be most beautifully 
warmed up with one of my snow-shoes,’’ warned 
Bub. 

‘Hf I bragged about knowing short cuts to a 
place and then fell down and couldn’t make 
good and got lost I wouldn’t threaten honest 
young men, who never promise more than they 
can do,” retorted Cub. 

Stanley encouraged this bit of sarcasm by 
chuckling loudly; for it was seldom he or his 
friend could detect Bub Thomas in an error 
of judgment, once they entered the woods. 

Ordinarily Bub would have relished this re- 
flection on his woodcraft keenly, but just now 
he was concerned with their predicament. He 
knew his friends relied implicitly upon him and 
that he alone must carry the burden of respon- 
sibility. To them, accustomed to the solitude 
and silences of the forest, the situation was not 
discouraging. But Bub, knowing he was off his 
course, feared they were to encounter a sting- 
ing blizzard ; and his gaze swept the leaden cur- 
tain of their meager horizon hungrily in search 
of smoke. 

Those who have read ‘^The Young Trappers” 


4 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


will recall that only a month before the three 
boys spent a most pleasant outing with Foster 
Farnum, an old trapper, in an effort to cap- 
ture a giant moose, that had defied many sports- 
men and hunters for several seasons. During 
their delightful sojourn at the trapper’s cabin 
Bub’s relative, Abner Whitten, the veteran tim- 
ber-cruiser, and their old friend, Noisy Charlie, 
an Indian, had joined them and had participated 
in many of their exciting experiences. 

At that time Abner had informed the boys 
that Stanley’s uncle. President Thaxter, had ten- 
tatively consented that they should spend a por- 
tion of the winter in the lumber camps on the 
Squawtooth. Since then he had given full per- 
mission, believing that a winter’s outing in the 
big woods would round out many things of an 
educational advantage already learned by them. 
For it was due entirely to Stanley’s chance com- 
ing to the Umbagog mill settlement ^ that Bub 
had entered the University of Maine to study 
forestry. It was due largely to the two friends 
meeting Cub Blaine on a previous trip to the 
Squawtooth ^ that that young man had been en- 
abled to continue his college work. 

Already Stanley had developed into a manly, 

1 See “The Young Timber-Cruisers” 

2 See “The Young Woodsmen” 


THE CAMP IN THE STORM 


5 


self-reliant young man, well-grounded in wood- 
craft and forestry and infinitely bettered in 
physical health. His uncle was shrewd enough 
to realize that all his own unlimited wealth 
could never buy health for his only nephew. 
Hence his willingness that the boy should again 
venture into the northern fastness. 

But on their former trip to the Squawtooth 
the hardwood growth had rioted in the bravery 
of autumnal colorings and the travel had been 
decently easy. Now it was all changed. The 
snow lay deep, the aspect of the entire country 
was ditferent. The white mantle had obliter- 
ated all inequalities of surface, rivulets and 
runs were smoothed out — and the redoubtable 
Bub Thomas had lost his way. True, like all 
good woodsmen, he had his compass, but his 
tanned cheeks reddened with shame as he con- 
fessed that in seeking to cut across country he 
had paid no heed to directions, and now the com- 
pass was valueless. 

‘‘Lost his way,’’ sighed Cub. ^‘Down at col- 
lege I keep a sharp eye on him, so he won’t wan- 
der away when trying to make across the cam- 
pus. But I did suppose he could be trusted up 
here where he ’s spent so much of his time. ’ ’ 

“Oh, shut up!” growled Bub. “I never 
took the cut-otf, but by the map it looked easy. 


6 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


The trouble is we Ve wandered off the map. So 
long as I could keep the blue top of that moun- 
tain in view I knew I was all right. But once 
the clouds settled I lost it. Now I donT know 
where I am. So, make the most of it, Mister 
Dixfield Wellmont Blaine.’’ 

‘‘You, ought to have brought along more 
maps,” snickered Cub. “I have a roll of maps 
of the coast you could have had just as well as 
not. If it’s only maps that’s bothering you — ” 

“Silence, child,” broke in Stanley, who had 
been studying their gloomy surroundings in vain 
search for some Squawtooth landmark. “The 
mountain is still to the north of us. Bub. ’ ’ 

‘Sure; but I don’t know whether I’ve swung 
too far east or not,” moodily replied Bub. 
“We’ve covered lots of territory since the clouds 
set in. For all I know there may be some high 
ridges between us and the mountain, cutting off 
our view.” 

“What do you advise T’ asked Stanley, halt- 
ing and holding out his hand, palm up, and 
watching the first of the flakes settle upon it. 
“It’s beginning to snow.” 

“We must den up till the clouds lift,” said 
Bub. “Then if we see a ridge we must climb it 
and get our bearings.” 

The prospect of climbing any ridges instantly 


THE CAMP IN THE STOEM 


7 


killed out Cub’s sense of humor, and he crossly 
inquired, ‘‘What’s the name of this old moun- 
tain you’ve managed to lose so completely?” 

“It’s Mt. Crow,” informed Bub. 

“Why be so fussy about it?” asked Cub. 
“Why not take some other mountain, one that’s 
well-bred and doesn’t go sneaking out of sight 
the minute three young men move towards it?” 

“I’m not stuck on Mt. Crow,” mumbled Bub. 
“But it happened to be the only landmark, due 
north, I could take as a guide. ’ ’ 

“Who owns it?” curiously asked Stanley, 
trying to remember why the name should stick 
in his mind. 

“You will when your uncle gets through with 
it,” dryly returned Bub. “The Great North- 
ern owns it. Never operated up there, though. 
When you’re up on Flat-Top Eidge you can see 
it.” 

Stanley’s eyes sparkled. He recalled it all 
now. The last time he had been at the Umba- 
gog settlement his uncle’s manager, Hatton by 
name, had remarked that the timber-cruisers re- 
ported good timber about Mt. Crow, but had 
added that the place had an unsavory reputation 
among loggers and that the company might not 
operate it for some years. Flat-Top Eidge 
formed the northern boundary of a rough par- 


8 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


allelogram, extending sonth as far as Hood 
Mountain. On tlie east the Squawtooth flowed 
north into Dead Eiver, while beyond a long ridge 
in the west Briar Stream found its way south 
into Kipper Pond, then into Kennebago Stream. 
But north of the Flat-Top region was new coun- 
try to Stanley and he began to yearn to ex- 
plore it. 

But the snowflakes were now falling thickly, 
with the wind making a mournful song as it 
soughed through the pines. His experience at 
the trapper ^s home taught him that soon the 
snow would be sifting through the evergreens 
with a soft hissing note, piling high under foot 
and making the traveling difficult and wearying. 
It was no time for curious questions. 

‘‘Unless we intend to get snowed under we 
ought to be getting busy,’^ he warned. 

“I’m not loafing,” assured Bub, striving to 
keep the anxious note out of his voice. “Eight 
ahead is a ledge with a thick cover of ever- 
greens behind it. W e ’ll camp there. ’ ^ 

Cub at once became galvanized into radical 
action. The prospect of resting appealed to 
him strongly. The quicker he reached the rest- 
ing-place the sooner he could relax, he decided. 
And contrary to his usual mode of procedure he 
swng into the lead and dashed on ahead. 


THE CAMP IN THE STOEM 


9 


means a night, asked Stanley. 

‘‘A hard night unless we make an extremely 
good shelter, ’ ’ assured Bub. ‘ ‘ I could kick my- 
self for making such a mistake. WonT Abner 
haul me over the coals, though 

‘‘He neednT know anything about it,’^ 
grinned Stanley. “Neither he, nor Charlie. 
We^re coming ahead of time, so none of them 
expects us.’’ 

“Oh, no, he won’t hear anything about it!” 
ironically jeered Bub. “Can you imagine Cub 
Blaine keeping it to himself?” 

“That’s so,” agreed Stanley. “Cub leaks 
information promiscuous. But then, you sel- 
dom hold anything back where the laugh’s on 
him. ’ ’ 

This truthful reminder caused Bub to smile 
sheepishly. In the past he had found much to 
enjoy in the rotund Cub’s errors. It was no 
more than fair that the tables should be turned 
occasionally. “Only I’m sorry it’s this kind of 
a break,” he sighed. 

“Hi! Want me to come out and lead you 
in?” yelled Cub’s voice. “Is that pesky Bub 
Thomas lost again ? Eight straight ahead, Bub. 
Keep a little to your left. Now aim right for 
my hand. See, I wave it back and forth. Now 


10 THE YOUNG LOGGEES 

don’t walk through that spruce. Just a few 
feet—” 

But Bub by this time had caught up a handful 
of snow and pressed it into a compact message 
of defiance. As it struck Cub in the mouth 
the remainder of his steering directions were 
lost. 

‘‘Gee! but this is a dandy place,” cried Stan- 
ley, after ducking under the low hanging boughs 
and finding himself before a natural recess 
scooped in the cliff. 

“Hurrah!” softly cheered Bub, all his fears 
vanishing as he noted the shelter extended some 
fifteen feet back under the rocks with a height 
of some six feet at the opening. The trees in 
front made an excellent wind-break. “Get 
busy, boys. Cub, collect some dry limbs and 
then chop some wood. Stanley and I will un- 
pack the traps and settle the house.” 

In an incredible short space of time Cub had 
a fire crackling in front of the little cave and 
was sturdily assailing a fallen spruce. Bub, 
who was deftly piling boughs for their beds, 
paused and stared across the flickering firelight 
in amazement. Stanley quickly followed his 
gaze, seeking to discover the cause of his emo- 
tion. 

“What do you see?” he whispered. 


THE CAMP IN THE STORM 


11 


“See?^’ spluttered Bub, jumping to his feet. 
‘ ‘ It isn ’t what I see. It ’s what I hear. ^ ^ 

only hear Cub chopping a log,’’ said Stan- 
ley, deeply puzzled. 

‘‘Yes, but he isn’t chopping a log with his 
hatchet,” cried Bub. “And none of us had an 
axe. Hi, Bub! Come in here.” 

“Aye, aye, mate,” cheerily cried Bub. When 
he staggered into the opening he was carrying 
a large spruce bolt. “There ! that’ll keep some 
blaze,” he triumphantly began, when Bub 
astounded him by stepping forward and snatch- 
ing an axe from his hand. 

“Where did you get this?” he sharply de- 
manded. 

“Well, I didn’t steal it,” sulkily retorted Cub, 
who had expected to be praised for bringing 
in the log. “I picked it up — why, say! Some 
one must have left it here. I picked it up right 
in this cave. Queer I didn’t think it strange 
to find it here. But all I was thinking of was 
to chop up some wood. First thing I knew I 
laid my hand on an axe. The hatchets are too 
light, you know. Take a hatchet for lopping 
off branches, or for getting up enough wood 
for one meal — ” 

“Yes, yes,” groaned Bub impatiently. “But 
the axe? You found it here?” 


12 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘‘Sure,’’ replied Cub. “ ’Course I found it 
here. Don’t you know we didn’t fetch any axes 
with us?” 

“And don’t you know this axe didn’t walk in 
here to wait for a chance to convenience Cub 
Blaine?” replied Bub. “And what’s more, 
didn’t you notice it’s a company axe?” And 
he touched the two crossed arrows marked in 
the head of the implement. 

“Say, that’s funny!” gasped Cub, rubbing 
his eyes. “Some one left one of the Great 
Northern Company’s axes here.” 

“The child has actually thought it all out,” 
chuckled Stanley, who took it for granted they 
had happened upon the stopping-place of some 
employee of the company. Then to Bub, ‘ ‘ This 
axe tells us we are near the Squawtooth camps. 
One of the choppers lost or left his axe 
here.” 

“Near the camps nothing!” scornfully ex- 
claimed Bub. “I’m lost, but I’m not crazy. 
We’re not within a day’s hike to the camps. 
There’s been no timber cut round here. The 
minute I heard Cub I could tell by the sound he 
wasn’t using a hatchet. Besides, lumbermen 
don’t leave their axes laying carelessly round. 
If you’ll look close you’ll see this axe is a new 
one. Not a scratch, hardly, on the handle. It’s 


THE CAMP IN THE STORM 


13 


fresh from the wangan. Looks to me like the 
work of some thief. 

‘‘Well, if he had to steal an axe I^m glad he 
left it here for Cub to use,’’ said Stanley. “Idl 
take a turn at chopping while you two cook the 
supper.’’ 

Cub was a famous cook. Among his other 
culinary achievements he could make most 
toothsome bread in an open baking-tin. So 
while Stanley augmented their stock of fuel and 
while Bub melted snow for drinking water and 
for their tea, Cub ignored the storm and deftly 
mixed a batch of bread, fried potatoes and 
ham and made the tea. 

By the time he gave the supper-call the wind 
was howling fiercely ab*out the snug retreat, pil- 
ing the tops of the evergreens with white, only 
to blow it downward to the forest fioor with 
the next blast. Stanley dragged in his last log 
and snitfed appreciatively at the bacon. “It’s 
going to be a ripper,” he announced, referring 
to the storm. 

“All snug and comfy here at Hotel Thomas,” 
smirked Bub. 

With great gusto they assailed the steaming 
victuals and between mouthfuls bestowed warm 
praise on the bread. Then as the sifting snow 
threatened to invade the mouth of their shelter 


14 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


they drew their bough couches farther away 
from the opening. It was while arranging his 
blankets that Cub emitted a loud squeal of sur- 
prise, and excitedly called out, ‘‘Fetch a torch 
here, fellows I IVe made a discovery.’’ 


CHAPTER II 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 

Seizing a piece of dry pine Bub joined Cub 
and held his smoking torch aloft. Close to the 
wall was a couch of moss and a single blanket. 
But what held Cub’s attention was a dark object 
about the size of a pencil. 

“What is it?” cried Bub. 

“A fountain pen,” proudly replied Cub. 
“I’ve been wanting a fountain pen ever since 
we hit the woods.” 

Both boys laughed heartily at this, neither be- 
ing able to figure out how their comrade would 
utilize such a convenience while cruising through 
virgin growth. “And I’ve often hankered for 
a sewing-machine,” added Bub. 

“But what would you do with a sewing-ma- 
chine — ” Cub was asking when Stanley took 
the pen from his fingers and quickly unscrewed 
the cap. 

“It’s empty, or else the ink has dried,” he 
informed. “It must have been here for some 
time.” 


15 


16 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Queer that anyone should bring a fountain 
pen into this wilderness/’ mused Bub. “It 
must have been a Cub Blaine. Then there ’s the 
axe. It’s one of the new lot Abner sent up to 
the Squawtooth camps. No logger carries a 
fountain pen round with him.” 

“Or leaves his axe behind him,” supple- 
mented Stanley. 

“Whoever he was he must have been a thief 
to take the axe, ’ ’ decided Cub. ‘ ‘ See ! here ’s his 
bed.” 

“Made sometime last fall, or early in the win- 
ter before we had much snow,” murmured Bub, 
examining the moss carefully. “If it wasn’t 
for the axe I’d say some city hunter put in a 
night here. But no city sportsman would steal 
an axe. His guide would do all the squaw work 
and would be well equipped for it. ’ ’ 

Stanley suggested that they abandon the little 
mystery and return to their fire. It was time 
they did this as the flames had burned to coals 
and the repeated onslaughts of the sifting snow 
was causing the embers and the encircling stones 
to siss and sizzle angrily. Fifteen feet above 
their heads the storm was raging furiously. 
The forest before them, could they have pene- 
trated it with their gaze, would have been found 
to be filled with dancing flakes. But scarcely 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 


17 


any violence of the wind could be felt beneath 
the thick boughs. Their cave, although at times 
filled with acrid smoke, was fairly comfortable. 
By sitting in the mouth of the shelter they could 
feel the warmth of the fire playing in fitful waves 
over them. 

Cub was for keeping the fire all night, insist- 
ing they would freeze to death if this were not 
done. 

‘‘Very well,’’ agreed Bub. “You stand the 
first watch. Look after things till midnight, 
then I’ll take a trick till four o ’clock in the morn- 
ing. Stanley can then take charge and have cof- 
fee ready for us. That with the bread and ham 
will give us a fine send-off.” 

“But I’m sleepy,” demurred Cub. “I sug- 
gest that I go to bed now and that you call me 
early in the morning.” 

“Meaning you can’t keep awake and would 
probably fall asleep after you took the watch,’*’ 
sneered Stanley. “I guess, Mr. Cub, we’ll all 
dig into the blankets, leaving a rousing fire to 
barn itself out. First man to wake up is to 
throw on more wood.” 

Bub assured both that he would fix the fire 
so it would keep till morning and proceeded to 
arrange several huge logs across the bed of 
coals. This done he covered the pile with 


18 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


boughs, to catch any snow sifting through the 
dense tops and declared: ‘‘Those logs will 
smolder all night. All we’ll have to do in the 
morning is to freshen it up with some dry twigs. 
Now every man wrap himself up snug.” 

Inside of five minutes three pair of feet were 
extended towards the fire, three mounds of 
blankets marked the forms of the sleepers. 

Sometime during the night Stanley was half 
roused by a log dropping on to the fire. He 
drowsily peeped from his blankets long enough 
to vaguely make out a figure bending over the 
burning logs. When he next awoke he beheld 
Bub raking the coals together, preparatory 
to adding fresh fuel. The wind had ceased. 
No snow was falling, but it was bitter 
cold. 

“Brave boy,” he chattered crawling from his 
blankets. “Guess we’d lost the fire if you 
hadn’t put on that log in the night.” 

“I put on a log?” repeated Bub, greatly sur- 
prised. “You dreamed it. I put on no log. ” 

“Then Cub did,” stoutly insisted Stanley. 
“Uwasn’t dreaming.” 

“What! Cub Blaine quit warm blankets to 
doctor a fire?” jeered Bub. “I should say not. 
Hi, Cub ! Bid you put a log on the fire during 
the night?” 


A MYSTERIOUS* WELCOME 19 

might have in my sleep,” shivered Cub, 
rising on an elbow. ‘ ‘ My I but it ’s cold. ’ ’ 

‘‘But I saw one of you,” insisted Stanley. 
“lUs nothing to be ashamed of. Why not Tess 
up?” 

“Go %ng with you,” cried Bub. “Hustle 
round and melt some snow for the coifee. 
Crawl out. Cub, or 1^11 ram a handful of snow 
down your neck.” 

Stanley said no more, allowing his companion 
to believe he had dreamed the log incident. Yet 
he knew he had been awake and that some one 
had replenished the fire. He had distinctly 
heard the log fall on to the coals and had ob- 
served the figure of whoever placed it there. 

“Next thing you know you’ll be dreaming you 
cooked the breakfast and will insist Cub and I 
do our share of the squaw work,” teased Bub, 
carefully nursing the coals into a roaring sheet 
of flame. “Chop up some dry stuff. Cub. I 
can’t ask Stanley as he stayed awake all night, 
keeping watch.” 

“If he can dodge work that way guess I’ll 
begin to do some dreaming,” said Cub sourly; 
for he disliked to wander more than a few feet 
from the warmth. 

Turning up his mackinaw collar he waded 
from the cave to where he had chopped the first 


20 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


log. Then he called out, ‘‘CanT find the axe. 
Stanley ought to have known better than to 
leave it on the ground to be buried under the 
snow.’’ 

‘‘Suppose you look again, Bright Eyes,” re- 
plied Stanley. “The axe wasn’t left in the 
snow. It’s sticking in the trunk of the spruce 
right before your eyes. ’ ’ 

Cub was silent for nearly a minute, then he 
cried: “No, siree! It isn’t in the tree. Come 
and find it yourself, Mister Smarty.” 

“Sure you didn’t leave it in the snow?” anx- 
iously asked Bub. 

“Oh, I’m not so green as that, ” groaned Stan- 
ley. “There was a time when I would have 
done it, but I’ve learned better since then.” 

“Let’s see if we can’t find it,” hurriedly said 
Bub. “I don’t like the way things happen 
round this cave.” 

This set Stanley to thinking, and he inquired, 
“What else has happened? We found an axe 
and a fountain pen. The axe is probably right 
where I left it. Cub has made up his mind not 
to find it. I’ll show you where it is in a 
jiffy.” 

But his “jiffy,” supposed to be an infinitely 
small measure of time, lengthened into minutes 
and Stanley at last ruefully confessed, “It’s 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 21 


gone, but I^m sure I stuck it into the tree. I’m 
positive of that fact.” 

Cub took a snow-shoe and industriously 
scooped the snow away from several tree trunks. 
He did this unsolicited, not because he enjoyed 
the labor but because he believed he was about 
to prove Stanley was sadly mistaken in his recol- 
lection. 

Bub stood and moodily watched him perspire 
for some minutes. Finally he said, Guess 
that will do. Cub. The axe isn’t in the snow. 
I could have told you that before you started 
excavating.” 

‘‘Then why in thunder didn’t you?” angrily 
puffed Cub, straightening. 

“I wanted to see you doing a man’s work,” 
explained Bub, yet with a strange absence of 
mirth. “Don’t search any more, fellows. The 
axe is gone.” 

“Gone?” repeated both boys in amazement. 
“You mean, we can ’t find it. ’ ’ 

“Meaning you can’t find it for the simple 
reason it isn’t here to be found. It’s gone, va- 
moosed, cruised far away. ’ ’ 

“Oh, say now,” protested Cub gravely; 
“axes can’t fly, you know.” 

“Here is where you buried it into the tree,” 
informed Bub, pointing to a deep cut in a spruce 


22 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


trunk. ‘‘You used lots of muscle and it took a 
lot to yank it out. ’ ^ 

“Well, if that doesnT beat anything I ever 
heard of,’’ gasped Stanley. “I was positive I 
stuck it into the tree. But who pulled it out?” 

“The man you saw tossing a log on to the 
fire,” retorted Bub, turning back to the cave. 
“Let’s eat and get out of here.” 

“Yes; let’s be moving,” muttered Cub. 
“Some one is too neighborly to suit me. 
They’ll be after that fountain pen next.” 

By the time they were ready to strike out it 
began snowing, this time in fine, powdery puffs 
which quickly blotted all but the immediate fore- 
ground from view, while the accompanying wind 
was high and keen. So long as they kept to the 
cover of the woods they felt the influence of the 
storm but little, although the air was filled with 
a haze of snow. But once it became necessary 
to quit shelter in crossing openings or small 
lakes it was all they could do to hold their own 
against the blast. 

Bub, as pathfinder, felt his responsibility 
weighing heavily upon him. Stanley and Cub 
were largely occupied with the temporary physi- 
cal inconveniences. Bub had to consider the 
future. It was shame enough to confess he was 
lost without having to dread the results. He 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 


23 


studied the country carefully, anxious for the 
storm to lift and reveal some ridge from the top 
of which he could get his bearings. The storm 
was obdurate, however, and increased in vio- 
lence as the day wore on. It was long past the 
noon hour when he called a halt in the shelter 
of some dense black growth and briefly an- 
nounced: ‘‘We must keep moving till we’re 
ready to camp for the night. I’m entirely out 
of my reckoning. My advice is to camp early, 
while we have light enough to get up a big stock 
of firewood.” 

‘ ‘ Why not camp now 1 ’ ’ asked Stanley. “We 
can’t, at the very best, make more than two 
miles an hour. So long as we may be going in 
the wrong direction it’s hardly worth the 
strength we ’re using up. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ All right, ’ ’ agreed Bub. “ We ’ll pitch camp 
in the next gully we strike. ’ ’ 

Another mile brought them to the partial shel- 
ter of a hollow, the banks of which were lined 
with spruce and fir. Bub quickly kicked otf his 
snow-shoes and using one for a shovel soon dug 
a deep hole under the lee of the trees. The boys 
imitated his industrious example until they had 
excavated a pit some eight feet in diameter. 
Then they erected a small lean-to against the 
bank. In front of this Bub heaped up logs until 


24 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


he had formed a partial shelter for the fire. By 
the time he had completed this task the others 
had attacked the surrounding wood and had ob- 
tained a quantity of pine stumps. With these 
for kindlings the flames were soon crackling 
sturdily. Then all hands turned out with their 
hatchets and sought more lasting fuel. They 
now appreciated the axe so mysteriously re- 
moved from the front of the cave. To chop up 
large logs with the smaller implements was out 
of the question. The best they could do was 
to confine their attention to saplings, or clear 
fallen trunks and burn them by allowing an end 
to rest on the coals till a four-foot length had 
been consumed. By advancing the log they 
could burn a whole tree in this fashion. 

The lean-to was about three feet in height 
with just room enough to contain a bed of 
boughs and their blankets. Once the fire was 
successfully defying the efforts of the snow and 
wind to extinguish it they crawled beneath this 
low shelter and watched the storm sweeping 
over the gully. Their retreat was isolated from 
the direct path of the wind and was compara- 
tively calm. Occasionally a more curious gust 
would sweep downward and smother them with 
snow and cause the fire to hiss viciously. 
Above them on the edge of the gully the trees of 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 25 


their wind-break groaned and thrashed and 
bowed before the force of the storm. Now and 
then a faint crash told of a branch or tree torn 
off or uprooted by its enemy, and at first Cub 
was afraid some such catastrophe might hap- 
pen on the bank above them. 

‘‘You fellows can stay here and get killed, 
but I’m going to move,” he declared as a tree 
surrendered close at hand and showered their 
refuge with bark and twigs. Saying this he 
picked up his hatchet and fought his way to a 
position clear of the overhanging trees. 

“Let him go. He’ll soon be back,” grinned 
Bub. 

“No danger of his getting hurt?” anxiously 
asked Stanley. 

“Not unless he runs into a tree or strikes 
himself with his hatchet,” assured Bub. 
“We’ll wait awhile and then call him back to 
help prepare the grub.” 

But Stanley became nervous after some thirty 
minutes and announced his intention to look af- 
ter Cub. “He might wander away and get 
lost,” he warned, crawling out from under the 
lean-to. 

“I never thought of that,” said Bub. “I’ll 
go with you. He couldn’t get lost unless he 
quit the gully and he’d hardly do that.” 


26 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


But Cub was not lost. They had scarcely 
waded round a turn in the gully before they 
beheld his new retreat. Stanley bowed his head 
and laughed heartily. It was characteristic of 
Cub to seek comfort no matter what were his 
surroundings. He had now utilized nature most 
cunningly. Selecting the prostrate trunk of a 
monarch pine he had taken advantage of the 
mass of earth and rocks raised some ten feet into 
the air by the interlacing roots and against this 
had erected a tiny lean-to. 

‘‘He’s got his house all built,” yelled Stanley. 
Bub nodded and quickened his pace. 

“Seems if I caught the smell of smoke,” 
added Stanley, compelled to shout to make him- 
self heard. 

Again Bub nodded and this time what was 
visible of his face became strained and anxious. 
He was now plunging wildly through the drifts. 
To Stanley’s amazement he kicked aside the 
lean-to and seizing Cub by the collar dragged 
him from his snug little house in a most peremp- 
tory fashion. 

“Hi, Bub Thomas! Quit that!” bawled Cub, 
struggling to his feet. “You think you ’re smart 
to spoil my lean-to. You’ll have to put it back. 
You were jealous because I knew enough to have 
a hot fire and rest in comfort while you were 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 27 


running the risk of having a tree smash down 
on you.’’ 

He would have returned to the shelter of the 
upturned tree, but Bub restrained him, crying, 
‘‘Do you want to be killed? Can’t you see the 
danger ? ’ ’ And he pointed at the mass of frozen 
earth and rocks held up like a wall by the roots 
of the pine. 

“I see my fire will be put out,” complained 
Cub, yanking free of Bub’s detaining hand. 

Stanley seized him as he tried to rush to the 
fire and cautioned, “Wait a bit. I see what Bub 
meant. Watch that big rock right over the fire. 
It must have been in a direct line with your head. 
Can’t you get the fact through your noddle that 
your fire has thawed out the dirt that is holding 
that mass of rock ? Now ! ” 

His exclamation was caused by the sudden 
dropping of the heavy stone. Had Bub not 
acted as he did Cub undoubtedly would have 
been dangerously injured if not killed. He was 
much crestfallen as he' humbly returned to the 
edge of the gully and took up his old place under 
the lean-to. 

“I was foolish to let you go,” patiently ex- 
plained Bub. “But I never thought of your 
finding that kind of a place. When a big tree 
blows over in freezing weather its roots will lift 


28 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


high in the air hundreds of pounds of rocks 
and dirt. And it’s just the kind of a trap a 
greenhorn will pick out to sleep under with a 
red hot fire at his side thawing all the junk free. 
Fellow down Rangeley way was killed by a rock 
falling on to his head.” 

‘‘Guess I need a guardian,” sighed Cub. 

“Almost,” tittered Stanley. 

Now determined to camp where they were till 
the storm had blown itself out the boys gathered 
more wood and then cooked a hearty supper. 
Their supplies, ample for the journey as orig- 
inally planned, were running low; but all agreed 
they might as well eat their fill as they must be 
very near some camp. The night shut in early 
and being weary from the day’s tramp they 
rolled up in their blankets and were soon asleep. 

Cub was the first abroad next morning. As a 
mark of appreciation of the boys’ forethought 
in rescuing him from danger the day before he 
had decided, after a mighty effort, to get up and 
prepare the breakfast without waiting for the 
usual summons. But the moment he reached 
the coals of the fire and was about to nurse it to 
full life with dry twigs he gave a loud, blood- 
curdling yell. 

In an instant Bub was on his feet, hatchet in 
one hand while with the other he endeavored to 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 29 


rub the sleep from his eyes. Again Cub 
sounded his shrill alarm. 

‘ ‘ What is it 1 Where is it U ^ cried Bub, dash- 
ing forward. 

‘‘What^s the rowT^ exclaimed Stanley, roll- 
ing out into the snow. 

‘^The axe! The axe!’’ shouted Cub, dancing 
in a frenzy about the fire. Bub gasped stupidly 
and gaped in complete amazement. An axe, 
presumably the same one taken from the tree be- 
fore the cave, was stuck deeply into a log. Mov- 
ing cautiously, as though fearing it might be- 
come animate and attack them the boys drew 
near tb it. Then Stanley gingerly advanced a 
hand and touched it. At the same moment Cub 
gave a loud cry and Stanley was ashamed to 
find himself leaping convulsively backwards. 

^‘Hang it, Cub Blaine! Let up on that 
screeching,’’ he growled. ‘‘It’s the axe, all 
right. Here’s the company’s mark. It must be 
the same axe, unless we want to believe this sec- 
tion of the country is flooded with them. ” 

“It’s easier to believe it’s the same axe than 
it is to explain how it got here,” slowly ob- 
served Bub, now taking the axe in his hands and 
examining it carefully. Then he asked, won- 
deringly, “Well, gentlemen, what do you make 
of it?” 


30 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘We Ye either crazy and are imagining it all, 
or else this is a mighty queer neck of the woods,” 
excitedly declared Cub. “I^m going to throw 
some grub together and then dig out. No more 
of this gnlly for mine. If there Y any other pe- 
culiar acting part of the country you can blun- 
der into. Bub Thomas, nowY your time, or 
never — great Scott!” 

“Something more?” muttered Stanley, star- 
ing about and expecting to witness almost any 
phenomenon. 

“Some — something less,” stuttered Cub. 
‘ ‘ The grub ’s gone ! ^ ^ 

The boys quickly followed the direction 
of his startled gaze and were nonplussed to 
observe that their pack of supplies was prac- 
tically empty. They had estimated that their 
rations would last them for another day with- 
out their stinting themselves, or two days if 
used economically. Besides a small piece of 
bacon and one slice of cheese the pack was 
empty. 

“This is mighty serious, fellows,” quietly re- 
marked Bub, after examining the snow under 
the pack. “It means weVe got to make for 
somewhere in a hurry. We canY even stop to 
wonder who turned the trick. ’ ^ 

“An axe is found, then taken from us; then 


A MYSTEEIOUS WELCOME 31 


our grub is stolen and the axe is returned,” mut- 
tered Cub in a dazed voice. 

‘‘That^s what,” gravely confirmed Stanley. 
“And if you 11 come out of your trance and take 
your share of this bit of bacon and the cheese 
well pack up and try to find a trail. WeVe 
either got to raise a smoke before night or knock 
over a rabbit.” 

“We’d have a poor chance of getting a rabbit 
till this storm clears up,” said Bub, sorrowfully 
scanning the lowering clouds. “We might hit 
on a partridge burrowing beneath the snow, but 
it would be pure luck. Let’s make haste as I 
want to climb the ridge to the west before it 
begins spitting snow again.” 

The ridge was now faintly discernible for the 
first time and spurred on by their dangerous 
plight the three were soon at its base. “You’d 
better follow me up,” advised Bub. “For I 
may find we’ve got to descend the other side. I 
feel it in my bones we’re too far north.” 

The boys saw the wisdom of his suggestion 
and although it was tedious work to mount the 
ridge on empty stomachs they drew their belts 
a notch tighter and doggedly kept at his heels. 
The moment Bub gained the top he gave a low 
whistle of surprise. Almost due west was the 
dark blue bulk of a mountain. 


32 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘‘What is itr^ asked Stanley. 

“Mt. Crow/’ grimly answered Bub. “I’m a 
fine woodsman. We’re miles off our course. I 
never got so completely befuddled in all my 
life.” 

“Then we must strike southwest to make the 
Squawtooth,” groaned Stanley. 

“ No, ” corrected Bub firmly. “ It ’s too far to 
make without food. I know from what Abner 
said that the Great Northern started a small 
crew working there at the beginning of winter. 
For some reason which he never explained the 
men were taken off, or quit — I never had time 
to pump him for the facts — and as I remember 
he said something about leaving quite a lot of 
supplies up there. Said he intended to leave 
them and draw on them as the Squawtooth 
crews worked north. We must make the camps 
at the foot of the mountain before dark.” 

“It’s beginning to snow,” moaned Cub. 
“And we’ll lose our way.” 

“No, sir-ee ! ’ ’ cried Bub. “ I ’ve got my bear- 
ings now. It can blow a blizzard and I’ll fetch 
you up at the foot of the mountain. I never was 
there, but we’ll have no trouble in finding the 
camps. ’ ’ 

“We’re wasting time,” nervously reminded 
Stanley, beginning to pick his way down the 


A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 33 


slope of the ridge. What had urged him on was 
the ever thickening cloud of snow slowly ap- 
proaching from the east. But Bub, now entirely 
confident inasmuch as he had taken his bearings, 
called on his friends to conserve their energy 
and take it easy. ‘^We^ll be mighty hungry by 
the time we pull in, but let^s not get winded and 
have to lay up in a lean-to for another night. 
My bones ache for a bunk.’^ 

By the time they reached the foot of the ridge 
the storm was upon them. Only now the wind 
did not blow, the snow falling steadily in long 
slanting lines. Bub took the lead and for hour 
after hour tramped sturdily towards where the 
mountain should be. For with the return of the 
snow even the ridge behind them was erased 
from the landscape. It was sometime after five 
o’clock that Bub gave a faint cheer and wearily 
waved his hand. ^^It’s a two-sled road,” he 
informed his companions. ‘‘But it hasn’t been 
used. They haven’t broken out a single yard 
to the landings yet. That means no one is 
here.” 

“But where’s Camp Crow?” complained Cub. 
“I can’t see anything.” 

“Expect the place would be lighted up and the 
band playing?” feebly joked Stanley. 

“Cheer up. The camps are dead ahead,” 


34 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


mumbled Bub, who like his mates was hardly 
able to drag one foot after another. 

The road ran through virgin growth and with 
no camp lights to welcome them the woods were 
gloomy and almost forbidding. Bub pointed 
out some low, squat shapes which he said were 
the log houses, erected in the fall to accommo- 
date the first crew to operate in the vicinity of 
the mountain. The boys were so leg-weary, so 
hungry and faint that they had no heart for 
talk, but stumbled on with awkward steps, lift- 
ing their shoes high as they floundered from the 
untraveled road and became tangled in the tops 
and branches left by the swampers. 

^‘The moon’s coming out full and strong,” in- 
formed Cub in a faint voice. 

Bub jerked up his head and cried: ‘Ht isn’t 
the moon. The camp’s on fire! Eun for it, 
boys ! ’ ’ 

And full in their faces as they hastened up the 
last bit of the road glowed a ruddy light that 
filled the small, high windows of one camp and 
radiated its brave warmth across the snow to 
the feet of the newcomers. 

‘‘Save the grub!” yelled Cub, trying to ac- 
celerate his steps. 

Stanley reached the low door first and with a 
kick sent it flying open. With a low cry of 



“It isn’t the moon. 


The camp’s on fire ! 


boys ! ’ ’ See Page 34- 


Run for it, 








A MYSTERIOUS WELCOME 


35 


amazement lie staggered back into Bub’s arms, 
crying, “It’s a fire in the fireplace! Some one 
is here!” 

But the camp was empty, although the crack- 
ling blaze evidenced that fresh wood had been 
thrown into the fireplace very recently. 

“It’s a mysterious welcome,” mumbled Cub, 
stiffly kicking off his shoes and sinking down 
on the deacon seat. 


CHAFTEE III 


BUB STANDS WATCH 

For the first hour the boys refused to dwell 
upon the mysterious occupant of the camp, who 
had made their arrival so pleasant. They only 
knew they were weary and hungry and after a 
few minutes ’ rest they set about exploring their 
new quarters and foraging for food. They were 
in the main camp, or bunk-house, and in addi- 
tion to the big fireplace there was a large box 
stove, now cold. Why the occupant of the place 
had used the fireplace instead of the stove puz- 
zled Bub, as he knew woodsmen prefer a stove 
for heating purposes. 

Across one end of the camp was the usual tier 
of bunks, a ‘ ‘ double-decker ^ ’ Bub called it. The 
upper row was in reality one continuous bed, 
filled with houghs, the men sleeping side by side, 
covered with blankets and with their feet ex- 
tending towards the stove. The lower bunks 
were separated by partitions and would accom- 
modate from two to six men each. Along the 
sides of the camp were other bunks, similarly 

36 


BUB STANDS WATCH 


37 


arranged. The deacon seats, formed from 
heavy planks and slabs, extended along in front 
of the bunks, affording the men a lounging- 
place before they retired to their stall-like sleep- 
ing quarters. The roof was formed of sawed 
boards and tarred paper instead of the old- 
fashioned cedar splits. 

But what interested the boys the most was 
the possibility of locating some provisions. To 
make the Squawtooth on empty stomachs 
seemed out of the question. After they had 
gazed curiously around Bub reminded, “We 
won’t find any grub in here, nor in the dingle, 
as that’s used to store meat, fish and other sup- 
plies that must be kept cold or frozen.” 

Leading the way to the low door he opened it 
and held a roll of blazing birch hark above his 
head. The dingle was some sixteen feet in 
length, connected with the cook’s camp by a roof 
and one side of logs. The other side was open. 
Passing through this and noting it held nothing 
but a miscellany of chains, harness and two 
grindstones the boys entered the cook’s camp. 
This was very clean and hardly showed any 
signs of having been used. At one end was the 
cook-range and the cooking-bench. But what 
caused the boys’ eyes to glisten was the tier of 
shelves piled high with supplies. 


38 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Just as they were completing their inventory 
the torch burned to Bub^s fingers, causing him 
to drop it with a growl of pain. Cub lighted a 
match and found a kerosene lamp equipped with 
a tin reflector. This proved to contain oil and 
in a moment the place was flooded with light. 

Placing the lamp on the cooking-bench the 
three began hauling down boxes, keeping up a 
running fire of comment as they examined the 
labels. 

‘‘Here’s what was once a big bag of rice, now 
spoiled by mice and squirrels,” cried Bub. 

“Here’s some canned beans,” added Stanley, 
setting aside three cans. 

“I guess everything that’s fit to eat is canned 
stutf,” grumbled Cub. “Here’s canned corn. 
Hurrah ! here ’s a can of clams. I ’ll make a clam 
chowder. ’ ’ 

“What about milk?” queried Stanley anx- 
iously, his mouth beginning to water. 

“Use condensed milk,” said Cub. 

“But potatoes?” asked Bub. 

Cub’s face fell for a moment, then he tri- 
umphantly replied, “We’ll get along without po- 
tatoes but we can use some of the corn and 
beans. It won’t make any difference so long 
as we use vegetables.” 

While having great confidence in Cub’s culin- 


BUB STANDS WATCH 


39 


ary ability the boys were a bit dubious about a 
cbowder prepared after his proposed recipe. In 
a vague way they remembered that other things 
were necessary for a chowder, but their acute 
hunger allowed them to be optimistic and, gath- 
ering up the supplies, they turned to retreat. 

“Just a second, eagerly cried Cub, his eyes 
glistening. ‘ ‘ I see a prize. ’ ’ And dropping his 
armful of cans he dived under the bench and 
dragged forth a long box which bore no label. 
‘‘There, gentlemen,’’ he impressively an- 
nounced, “I have here something that is worth 
more than all the other junk put together.” 

“Get out,” grinned Bub, winking at Stanley. 

“I certainly have,” gravely assured Cub. 

“Would you back your judgment by taking it 
as your part of the rations ? ’ ’ quizzed Stanley. 

‘ ‘ Gladly, ’ ’ cried Cub. “You fellows can have 
the chowder and other stuff and I’ll have this. 
Of course there’s enough here for all of us, but 
just to teach you a lesson I’ll take your ‘dare.’ 
And before two hours have passed you’ll be eat- 
ing out of my hand for the sake of enjoying some 
of my treat.” 

“It’s a bargain,” grinned Bub. “It’s all 
yours. If we get any we’ve got to do your part 
of the squaw work, or whatever you stipulate. 
By the way, what is it I” 


40 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘HUs sides of bacon,’’ exulted Cub, patting 
the box fondly. Can’t you tell by the way it’s 
put up. Why, I knew it the minute my eyes 
spotted it.” 

^‘I’d do almost anything except commit a 
crime for a plate of bacon,” sighed Stanley. 

‘‘After I’ve cooked my own supper from it 
you can interview me and make some proposal,” 
said Cub grandly. “I may not accept your of- 
fer on the spot. I may want a night to think 
it over. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ And me starving ! ’ ’ cried Stanley. ‘ ‘Well, I 
like your nerve.” 

“Hardly starving,” corrected Cub gently. 
“For you’ll have a savory chowder. Only 
chowder isn’t as filling as a heaping plate of 
crisp, delicious bacon. Yum, yum.” 

“Quit it,” choked Bub, turning away. 
“What’ll you sell a portion for this very min- 
ute?” 

But Cub shook his head and replied, “I can’t 
do business in here. You’ll have to see me in 
my office.” And he jerked his thumb towards 
the bunk-house. Then he slowly decided, “Of 
course if you should insist on my taking your 
new hunting-knife this very second in payment 
for a few slices we might be able to talk — ” 

“Well, I won’t,” broke in Bub. “My new 


BUB STANDS WATCH 


41 


knife/ ^ he cried, — ^‘the one Abner gave me!’’ 

‘H’m not urging you to trade,” sternly re- 
minded Cub, picking up his precious box. ‘‘I 
was just showing bow great must be the price 
before I’ll do business out of office hours.” 
And tucking the box under bis arm be proudly 
led the way back to the bunk-house. 

No time was lost in kindling a roaring fire in 
the box-stove, as the boys preferred preparing 
their supper there to using the more convenient 
kitchen. A kettle was borrowed from the cook’s 
collection of utensils and with great zest Cub 
set about making the chowder. ^H’ll cook my 
supper after yours is under way,” be explained. 
“Bacon is soon made ready for the table.” 

“Please remember you can’t have any of the 
chowder unless we agree on terms,” reminded 
Bub. 

“The chowder will be appetizing but I shall 
eat so heartily of the bacon I shan’t care for 
any, ’ ’ calmly informed Cub. 

Stanley watched him anxiously, hardly able 
to wait till be had finished diluting the con- 
densed milk and adding the canned corn and 
beans. “Hi! put in that can of tomato,” com- 
manded Bub. “I’m a bit suspicious about 
canned string beans, but tomato is all right.” 

Cub added the tomato and then paused and 


42 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


rubbed his chin dubiously. Stanley at once 
scented danger and asked, ^‘What^s wrong 
nowT’ 

‘‘Merely a trifle,’’ murmured Cub. Then 
brightly, “However, it won’t make much differ- 
ence. ’ ’ 

“ Wonder what he ought to put in that he isn’t 
putting in?” whispered Bub. “Seems to me 
he isn’t much concerned about that chowder.” 

“He’s got his supper and doesn’t care,” 
grumbled Stanley. 

“He’s better care,” muttered Bub. “He’ll 
be after it. Maybe we’re wronging him. It 
smells good.” 

It did. The clams were Maine clams, tender 
and succulent and capable, as the boys well 
knew, of forming a most delicious chowder. 
Still the little wrinkle in Cub’s forehead caused 
them to be suspicious. At last he pronounced 
it done and poured out two generous portions 
and shoved a plate of pilot bread towards them. 
The pilot bread had been stored in a huge tin 
can and had escaped the ravages of the squir- 
rels. 

With deep sighs of satisfaction the boys 
seized their spoons and began eating. After 
the second spoonful they paused and leaned 
back, their faces betraying deep indignation. 


BUB STANDS WATCH 


43 


‘‘Cub Blaine, wbat did you do to this chow- 
der U’ fiercely demanded Bub, thumping his 
spoon on the table. 

“There isnT a bit of expression to it,’’ 
moaned Stanley. “Wish we’d eaten the clams 
raw. ’ ’ 

Cub edged away and timidly explained, “It 
would be better if I’d had a pinch of salt, some 
pepper and a few scrids of salt pork.” 

“Great Scott! It’s the freshest thing I ever 
tasted,” growled Bub, trying it again. “I be- 
lieve those blamed old beans spoiled it.” 

“Whoever neard of string-beans in a chow- 
der,” bitterly complained Stanley, pushing his 
plate back in disgust. 

Cub grinned and reminded, “There’s a good 
supper waiting for you if we can come to terms. 
After I’ve eaten I shall wait five minutes for 
the filing of bids. Then after that I’m going to 
bed. ’ ’ 

Bub ’s face lighted wonderfully and he kicked 
Stanley under the table as their comrade re- 
moved the cover of the box with a hatchet. A 
heavy layer of yellow paper met his gaze and 
in a soft voice he observed, “There’s nothing 
more pleasing to gaze upon than a large box 
filled with sides of bacon. Some of it will be 
fat, some very lean, some streaked in alternate 


44 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


layers with lean and fat.” Then he snatched 
off the paper. 

The expression of disgust and dismay on his 
round face sent Stanley into a fit of laughter be- 
fore he could examine the contents of the box. 
Bub, too, was overcome and howled loudly in 
delight. 

call that pesky mean to make the box look 
as if it held sides of bacon,” bitterly wailed Cub, 
kicking the box venomously and thereby hurt- 
ing his toes. 

‘‘What — ^what is it?” choked Stanley. 

“It’s bars of very yellow soap,” groaned 
Bub. “Oh, Cub I if you hadn’t been a ninny 
you’d have known that porcupines would have 
gnawed that box to pieces long ago if it held 
bacon.” 

“S’pose I’ll have to eat that old chowder,” 
glumly remarked Cub. 

“Pardon us. Mister Blaine, but that chowder 
belongs to the firm of Malcolm and Thomas,” 
politely informed Bub, drawing the kettle to 
him. “If you want to buy some my partner 
and I will hear your offer and sometime during 
the next week will let you have a decision.” 

“He’d better make his proposal carefully in 
writing and mail the letter,” gravely suggested 
Stanley. 


BUB STANDS WATCH 45 

‘^Quit kidding,’’ grumbled Cub. ‘H’ll cook 
the breakfast to-morrow.” 

‘‘There isn’t anything to cook but canned 
stuff and we prefer to eat that out of the can,” 
grinned Bub. 

“Let’s see,” mused Stanley; “we need snow 
for water. When a man submits a bid he usu- 
ally sends along a certified check to guarantee 
his ability to carry out his part of the con- 
tract. Suppose we allow Mr. Blaine to deposit 
enough snow to fill two kettles with water as a 
guarantee of his responsibility. After he’s 
done that we’ll consider his proposal.” 

Bub enthusiastically endorsed this plan and 
their disgruntled comrade hurried to obtain the 
snow. While he was making frequent trips the 
boys opened two cans of corn and ate it cold. 
That with the pilot bread had to suffice for their 
supper. By the time they had finished Cub had 
bravely fulfilled his part of the contract and 
renewed his offer to do extra squaw work until 
they made the Squawtooth camps. His friends 
now relented and gave the signal for him to as- 
sail the chowder. He stuck to it bravely until 
he had eaten two plates. The boys were com- 
pelled to admire his way of smacking his lips 
and his repeated insistence that the mess was 
very savory. 


46 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Witli their appetites partially appeased the 
boys made a second examination of the room, 
this time aided by the light from the kerosene 
lamp. There were several obvious signs of re- 
cent occupancy. In one of the bunks were a 
pair of the company's blankets, probably filched 
from the wangan. Bub pointed to a pile of 
birch wood back of the stove and said it had 
been cut that winter. None of the company’s 
men had operated the Mt. Crow tract since early 
in December. 

But it remained for Cub to cover himself with 
glory. While nosing about in one comer back 
of the door opening into the dingle he gave a 
shrill shout of glee and threw a heavy object 
towards the boys. 

‘‘What now? More soap?” asked Stanley. 

‘ ‘ Gee whiz ! It ’s a ham, ’ ’ yelled the delighted 
Bub, picking up the object and placing it on the 
table. 

“Now we’ll see who files certified checks and 
melts the snow, ’ ’ proudly crowed Cub. ‘ ‘ That ’s 
what I meant to find when I fished out the soap. 
It’s the primest, nicest ham, my children, you 
ever ate. And if you ’re real good I ’ll fry a pan- 
ful immediately; that is, if the chowder didn’t 
take away your appetites.” 

“Ham,” puzzled Stanley. “Why it’s got a 


BUB STANDS WATCH 


47 


tag that says it’s shipped to the Great Northern 
company. I didn’t know my uncle served ham 
in his camps.” 

“It’s one that was sent to Abner,” explained 
Bub, examining the tag carefully. “Abner is 
awful fond of ham. When the quarters of beef 
come in he’ll pass them by each time to have a 
slice of ham broiled. Hatton always sends a lot 
up on the tote sleds. This one was swiped from 
the Squawtooth camp. I’ll bet Abner was mad 
when he found it was gone.” 

The boys could well believe this as Abner 
Whitten thought much of what he had to eat. 
It was another characteristic of his to provide 
himself with several times the amount of provi- 
sions really needed, always fearing he would not 
have enough. While the boys speculated as to 
the identity of the thief Cub removed the burlap 
covering and lovingly carved off several large 
slices and set them to sizzling on the stove. 

This time no one found fault with the cooking 
and Cub was compelled to fill the frying-pan a 
second time before the three were satisfied. 

“Now that we’ve filled up, what shall we do 
about this chap who steals the company’s prop- 
erty and makes his living quarters in a com- 
pany camp?” asked Buh. 

“Any man is welcome to shelter and food so 


48 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


far as the company is concerned/’ said Stanley, 
‘‘providing he’s caught without provisions or a 
roof. But deliberate theft and continual house- 
keeping in this camp won’t do. I’m sorry we 
weren’t in time to nab the fellow.” 

“It does no harm his sleeping here,” yawned - 
Cub, now ready to turn in. 

“That depends on who he is,” qualified Stan- 
ley. “If he should set the woods afire in a dry 
spell and burn up several million feet of prime 
timber there would be lots of harm. The com- 
pany would find it cheaper to board him in some 
city hotel.” 

“It’s my opinion that he’s dodging the law 
for something,” decided Bub. “If he’s honest 
he would ask for work and get it. It’s all 
mighty queer, both the way we lost and found 
the axe and the way we found this fire burning. 
I can’t quarrel with him for having the place 
warmed up for us, though.” 

“I certainly shan’t find fault with his having 
the ham waiting for us,” broke in Cub. 

“Still it must be inquired into,” earnestly in- 
sisted Stanley. “He’s welcome to the ham and 
the lodgings he ’s enjoyed here. But he must be 
looked up. ’ ’ 

The boys removed their foot-gear and hung 
their woolen socks back of the stove to dry. 


BUB STANDS WATCH 


49 


Each was very sleepy and yet each waited for 
the other to suggest that one keep watch for a 
part of the night. None wanted to he the first, 
however, and possibly all three would have 
turned in and left the camp to guard itself if 
Cub hadnT emitted a low cry of fear and wildly 
exclaimed, ‘ ‘ The window ! The face ! ’ ^ 

‘‘What did you seeT’ demanded Bub, while 
Stanley leaped to the door and threw it open. 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know, ’ ’ whispered Cub. ‘ ‘ I thought 
it was a wild animal, yet it wasn’t. It was a 
face all covered with hair. I only saw it for a 
second.” 

Stanley could see nothing from the door and 
returned to put on his moccasins before ven- 
turing out. Once he was equipped he had Bub 
hold the lamp up to the small window while he 
waded through the high-banked snow beneath it 
and searched for tell-tale tracks. But if there 
had been an intruder the whistling wind had 
eliminated all foot-prints by the time the boy 
could conduct his examination. 

“It’s your imagination,” denounced Bub. 
“You two turn in and I’ll keep watch till mid- 
night. Then the man who seems to be resting 
the best will have to take my place.” 

After his friends had crawled into their bunks 
Bub extinguished the lamp and settled himself 


50 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES, 


before the fireplace, fighting bravely to keep 
awake. He had put in a hard day and his hearty 
supper tended to incline him strongly for sleep. 
He fought persistently and when finding himself 
slipping into slumber staggered to his feet and 
resolutely paced up and down the room. It 
seemed as though midnight would never come 
and more than once he opened the door and al- 
lowed the cold air to bathe his face. The wind 
now had subsided and the woods were very 
quiet. The snow showed ghostly white through 
the dark growth and a handful of stars glittered 
coldly through the scattered clouds. It would 
be cold and clear on the morrow, he decided. 

At last his watch told him it was twelve o ’clock 
and with a sigh of relaxation he was about to 
close the door and arouse Stanley when he was 
chained to the spot by a new note in the woods. 
It was not a tree ‘‘squeak” nor the dropping of 
snow through the branches. Bather it was the 
mellow, re-echoing note of a logger’s axe regu- 
larly and rhythmically chopping into the heart 
of some stout tree. In the stillness of the night 
it impressed him as being uncanny. 


CHAPTER IV 


OLD FRIENDS 

At first Bub could hardly credit his senses. 
He waited some moments before stealing to 
Stanley's side and arousing him. Although but 
half awake Stanley promptly slid out on the 
floor, knowing from the manner in which Bub 
clutched his arm that something unusual had 
happened. Nor did he bother to ask any ques- 
tions as Bud led him to the open door. 

Then his ears caught the hollow clump, clump, 
and in amazement he whispered, ^ ‘ Someone fell- 
ing a tree — at midnight T’ 

‘‘Hustle into your clothes. I’m going to 
cruise out a bit and make the gentleman’s ac- 
quaintance,” replied Bub. 

As Stanley had but partly undressed he was 
soon ready to accompany his friend and leaving 
the unconscious Cub to slumber peacefully they 
were soon snowshoeing cautiously towards the 
sound. The traveling was blind as the last 
snow in covering all obstacles had not had time 
to pack down. But with Bub to pick the way 

51 


52 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


they made good time and at last reached a point 
when it seemed as though the next rod would 
bring them upon the mysterious chopper. In 
his eagerness to solve the riddle Bub allowed 
the toe of one shoe to catch in a dead limb and 
before he could regain his balance he had 
plunged headlong into the underbrush. 

The axe blows instantly ceased. Stanley 
thought he caught the sound of some one making 
off but was not positive as Bub made consider- 
able noise in regaining his feet. Pushing on 
they came to a small opening where they be- 
lieved the unknown logger had been at work. 
Tearing a strip from a tall birch Bub impro- 
vised a torch. They discovered a tall spruce, 
eleven inches through at the butt, all but ready 
to fall. Their brief examination told them that 
whoever the chopper might be he knew how to 
swing an axe. The snow about the spruce was 
trodden down and two sets of tracks on the 
outer rim showed where the man had entered 
and where he had taken his departure. Had it 
been daylight the boys would have followed the 
trail. 

‘‘We ^11 look him up to-morrow,’^ declared 
Stanley as they hurried back to camp. 

“If I hadn’t tripped we might have nabbed 
him,” lamented Bub. 


OLD FRIENDS 


53 


‘‘Possibly it’s just as well that you tripped,” 
significantly comforted Stanley. “A man who 
spends his time chopping trees at midnight in 
this lonely spot may be a disagreeable customer 
to meet. Let’s say nothing to Cub.” 

The rest of the night passed uneventfully. 
Stanley stood the watch till four in the morn- 
ing, after which he returned to his bunk and 
roused Cub. By the time the boys had had their 
eight hours of sleep Cub announced breakfast 
was ready. The odor of broiled ham was suffi- 
cient incentive to bring them to the floor with 
a rush. As Cub had succeeded in finding a 
can of coffee they voted the meal good enough 
even to satisfy the fussy tastes of Abner Whit- 
ten. 

“I figure we’re about twenty miles from the 
first camps on the Squawtooth,” said Bub, as 
they strapped on their shoes and made ready 
to set out. “And we must make it by night. 
Take a generous supply of the ham, Cub, and 
some of the coffee. Then we’ll be sure of a 
hearty dinner.” 

“No danger of our not making it?” asked 
Stanley. 

“Not if you fellows can keep moving,” coldly 
assured Bub, who suspected the question re- 
sulted from the speaker’s fear that they might 


54 


THE YOUNH LOGGERS 


lose their way again. know just where we 
are. Still twenty miles on shoes is some task. 
IVs as hard as thirty-five or forty on bare 
ground. ’ ’ 

‘‘We must go through with a rush,’^ stoutly 
averred Stanley. “Let^s do the biggest half 
before dinner. It’s mighty comforting to know 
that when you sit down to eat you’ve covered 
the biggest half of your cruise.” 

‘ ‘ Shall we meet Abner at the first camp 1 ’ ’ eag- 
erly asked Cub. 

“I expect we will,” answered Bub. “He’s 
the walking boss and has been putting in some 
time at the lower camps near Hood Mountain. 
It’s time for him to be at the north camp now. 
Wherever he is we’re sure to find Noisy Char- 
lie.” 

“They’ll be interested to hear our experi- 
ences,” said Stanley. 

He meant they would be deeply interested to 
learn of the mysterious logger. Cub, still 
ignorant of the incident of the night, nodded his 
head sagely and added, “Yes, he’ll be awful 
glad we found the ham after being disappointed 
in the soap. Say, you fellows think I was crazy 
when I said I saw something at the window. 
But I saw it just the same.” 

Bub surprised him by gravely assuring, “We 


OLD FRIENDS 


55 


believe you, my son. I shall tell Abner so. 
Why shouldn’t you see someone when we al- 
ready knew someone had been lodging in the 
camp and living on stolen grub 1 ’ ’ 

“How many men in the north camp?” asked 
Stanley, somewhat ashamed he should have to 
ask for details concerning a business which 
some day would be all his own. 

“About fifty,” replied Bub. “There are 
some forty men divided into six yarding-crews, 
a couple of men on each landing, the teamsters 
hauling to the landings, besides the camp boss, 
the cook and cookee and the wangan clerk and 
scaler. The number varies, but it’ll average 
close about fifty to a camp. I don’t believe Ab- 
ner’s got more than one landing at the north 
camp, but he may have two.” 

“And the yarding crews are made up of two 
sawyers, as many swampers, a sled-tender and a 
yard-tender. The teamsters take turns driving 
the tote sleds,” added Cub, who had worked in 
the woods before, serving as cook and forester. 

‘ ^ The men with the saws first undercut a tree 
and then saw it down,” said Stanley, believing 
it timely that he should brush up his logging 
lore. 

“If it wasn’t for the undercut, or notch, the 
tree would be. pretty apt to split off when it 


56 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


falls,’’ added Bub. ‘^That’s wby the sawyers 
never cut wholly on one side. Of course it’s 
up to the sled-tender to lop off the limbs and 
chop off the top. The man at the yard piles up 
the logs. They’ve been chopping since last 
August and if the stuff wasn’t yarded they’d 
never find it in this snow. They ’ll begin break- 
ing out to the landings soon, ’ ’ 

‘‘But what about the timber up at Camp- 
Crow?” asked Stanley. “If that isn’t yanked 
out to a landing how can it go with the spring 
drive?” 

“It can’t, unless it gets up and walks,” dryly 
returned Bub. 

For the next few miles Stanley remained in 
a brown study, ignoring his comrades’ chaffing. 
He was forming plans whereby he hoped to 
prove himself something more than a guest at 
the camps. Never for a moment had he sought 
to utilize his prestige of being the nephew of 
the president of the company. From the start 
he had been simply a good comrade, ever ready 
to do his share of the work, no matter how dis- 
agreeable it might be. So now he was ambi- 
tious to accomplish something to the advantage 
of the Great Northern, well content if able to 
win Abner Whitten’s approval of his efforts. 

Finally Bub despaired of arousing his friend 


OLD FRIENDS 


57 


and advised, “We might as well quit, Cub; 
President Thaxter is mulling over something.’’ 

“Whatever the president decides to do you 
two are counted in,” smiled Stanley. “Guess 
I’ve lost track of the scenery. What’s that 
rise ahead?” 

“Flat-Top Ridge,” Bub informed him. 
“Say, but weren’t we having a lively time up 
•there a year ago this coming spring? And 
wasn’t Big Nick^ one of the worst eggs you 
ever met ? ’ ’ 

“We met Professor Carlton and his daugh- 
ter Laura down on Hood Mountain,” continued 
Stanley, his eyes flashing as he recalled the ex- 
citing incidents of his first visit to the big 
woods. Cub at once insisted on having the yarn 
repeated to him and was very curious to learn 
about the Carltons. 

i ’ ’ he explained, ^ ‘ one of the faculty was 
saying just before I came up here that Profes- 
sor Carlton was on here from Colorado, where 
President Thaxter got him his position, and 
that he might be induced to lecture at the Uni- 
versity. I paid particular attention because I 
remembered what you fellows had told me about 
him.” 

Bub shook his head sorrowfully and said, 

1 See “The Young Timber-Cruisers” 


58 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


There’s small chance of Professor Carlton’s 
delivering any lectures this winter. He came 
east to settle up the small estate left by his 
brother, who was drowned last fall.” 

‘H didnT even know he was in the East,” said 
Stanley. 

‘‘Abner told me in his last letter,” explained 
Bub. Then pointing to the eastern end of the 
ridge he added, “The Great Northern can thank 
you for saving them that section of the coun- 
try. We’ll skirt the ridge and arrive at the 
camp in time for supper.” 

‘ ‘ Supper ! ’ ’ murmured Cub, smacking his lips 
loudly. “Can it be possible that we’re going 
to eat baked beans and twisted doughnuts and 
fresh meat and all the other fixings'? I can 
scarcely make it seem real. Let ’s stop now and 
eat the ham.” 

“Not till we strike the fringe of spruce 
ahead,” firmly said Bub. “Then we’ll have 
completed the longest leg of the hike and can 
cruise the balance in record time.” 

It was piercing cold and the boys were wear- 
ing their caps pulled low over their ears and 
foreheads. Even then it required constant 
vigilance on the part of each to prevent a frozen 
nose or cheek. When one of them saw his com- 
panion’s nose or face growing white he did not 


OLD FRIENDS 


59 


pause to ask permission or to explain any- 
thing. Instead, he would scoop up a handful of 
snow and rub it on the offending spot. The 
other might receive some of it in his mouth or 
nose and splutter a bit, but it was a case of mu- 
tual protection. The growth ahead would af- 
ford them shelter from the cutting wind. On 
the other hand it would not do for them to tarry 
there over-long as their rapid tramping had set 
them to perspiring and to halt meant to invite 
chills. 

The moment the growth was reached Cub 
kicked otf his shoes and energetically scooped 
out the snow from in front of a log. By the 
time he had done this and had arranged two 
notched sticks and had placed a green branch 
across them in anticipation of coffee-making. 
Bub and Stanley were ready with dry twigs and 
dead limbs. The work of melting snow for the 
coffee required some patience and the resulting 
liquid was quite generously sprinkled with a 
fine debris of bark and bits of twigs. But these 
were trifles and without attempting to skim 
them off Cub dumped in the coffee and hung the 
pail on the limb. While this was approaching 
the boiling point he punched two small holes 
in a can of condensed milk and produced the 
ham. Instead of attempting to fry it he fished a 


60 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


bread-toaster from bis dunnage bag and made 
ready to broil it. 

Dinner is now served/’ he called out to the 
boys, who had been tramping back and forth to 
keep warm. 

‘ H ’m frozen, ’ ’ shivered Stanley. ‘ ‘ Let ’s bolt 
this and get to moving again. It’ll take three 
miles of fast work to warm me up. ’ ’ 

Bub, more seasoned, felt the cold less, yet he 
was wise enough to know they must resume 
their journey at once unless they would stiffen 
their muscles. Perhaps the size of the mouth- 
fuls they snapped out of their respective slices 
of hot ham would violate the teachings of polite 
dining. In any event they finished their repast 
standing and in less time than it had required 
to prepare the food were through with eating. 

Stanley had spoken truly about requiring a 
long, hard walk to warm him up. Not that three 
miles were necessary, but more than half an 
hour passed before he would admit he was com- 
fortable. Cub, possibly because of his extra 
flesh, seldom felt the cold and excited his com- 
panions’ admiration by refusing to cover his 
ears. 

‘^He must be tough as a pine knot,” observed 
Stanley. 

“I’m strong,” puffed Cub. “Strong men 


OLD FRIENDS 


61 


never feel the cold. I used to have an uncle 
who never wore an overcoat in his life. Never 
would wear a mitten, either.’’ 

^‘Feel plenty warm now?” asked Bub, walk- 
ing beside him. 

‘ ‘ J ust like toast. My ears never felt so comfy 
before. They just burn with the heat.” 

‘‘You young chump!” roared Bub, catching 
him round the neck and rubbing a handful of 
snow over an ear most briskly. “Take the 
other ear, Stan. Great Scott! they’re white as 
the snow. They’re frozen almost stitf.” 

“Say, quit it,” groaned Cub. “You make 
them ache.” 

“Serves you right,” growled Stanley, giving 
his ear an extra polish. “Spring any more 
uncle-never-wore-an-overcoat yarns on us, will 
you?” 

“Oh, but they ache!” groaned Cub, as the re- 
stored circulation nipped him with sharp pains. 

“Never wore a mitten, eh?” mumbled Bub, 
pinching and rubbing an ear till it grew red. 

Cub offered no more family history and as 
the sun was working low in the west the hoys 
let out their reserve speed and cleared the end 
of the ridge at a sharp clip. The knowledge 
that friends, warmth and hot food were awaiting 
them, that they would have all their wants sup- 


62 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


plied without raising a hand, spurred them on 
to an extra effort and the few remaining miles 
were reeled off smartly. The afternoon dusk 
was filling the forest, with the night greedily 
waiting to close in, when they struck a well- 
beaten two-sled road and promptly removed 
their snow-shoes. A short hike and they turned 
into the clearing in front of the camps and be- 
held the welcome glow from the cook’s house. 
The long, sloping roofs, piled almost to the 
eaves with snow, appeared to be set on the 
ground. With a shout of rejoicing the three 
awkwardly attempted a sprint to the path lead- 
ing down at a sharp angle to the low door. 

With an unexpected burst of speed Cub gained 
it first, promptly lost his footing and shot down 
the decline like a very fat bullet just as a team- 
ster decided to emerge. In a second both boy 
and teamster were rolling over the rough 
floor. 

‘‘What in sin d’ye mean by ramming into a 
bunk-house in that fashion?” roared a well- 
known and dearly beloved voice. 

“Fat boy walk on ear,” remarked another 
familiar voice. 

“By jing! If it ain’t Cub Blaine,” yelled 
Abner, seizing the youngster by the hand and 
yanking him to his feet. “What’s this mean? 


OLD FRIENDS 63 

Anything happened to my Bub? Speak out! 
If any harm’s come to him I’ll — ” 

‘‘All safe as a top, Abner,” called out Stan- 
ley’s cheery voice. 

“Young Fox here now,” said Charlie, his 
black eyes glittering as he beheld his young 
favorites. “Young Chief is welcome. Fat boy 
big medicine like-um was at old trapper’s.” 

Stanley was always “the Young Chief” be- 
cause of his relationship to President Thaxter. 
Bub was “the Young Fox” just as Abner was 
‘ ‘ the Old Fox. ’ ’ Cub ’s title of ‘ ‘ Big Medicine ’ ’ 
resulted from his making an ice-boat while visit- 
ing Foster Farnum, the old trapper. 

Abner grabbed Bub in his arms and hugged 
him hard; then, as if ashamed of his emotion, 
pretended to shake him, all the time complain- 
ing, “What d’ye mean, ye young varmint, by 
gitting here ahead of schedule time? Where 
was ye hiding up during that little squall of 
snow?” 

Noisy Charlie chuckled deep in his throat. 
During the “little squall” of snow he and Ab- 
ner had cruised far south in an effort to meet 
the boys. After the youngsters had shaken 
hands repeatedly with the Indian and the 
veteran timber-cruiser Abner observed, “This 
ain ’t no place to talk in. The men ’ll be return- 


64 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ing soon. Come down to my camp where we 
can give and take the news.’^ 

First tell us when supper ^11 be ready 
begged Bub. 

‘‘Always thinking of yer victuals,’’ con- 
demned Abner. Then in a low aside to the In- 
dian, “Better touch up the cook to have extry 
plenty tonight. These younkers never blow in 
but what I have to cut down my allowance. 
Tell the cook to serve ’em some of my extry 
special broiled ham. ’ ’ 

“We had lots of it up at Camp Crow,” art- 
lessly informed Cub. “It was very good, too.” 

“Camp Crow! You make um Camp Crow 
up by Mt. Crow!” cried the Indian, with what 
for him was a great show of feeling. 

“Been eating off’n one of my hams!” splut- 
tered Abner. “Guess we’ll see about this.” 

The Indian gravely followed the merry party 
to Abner’s private camp, his brows clouded with 
concern. Stanley observed hjs expression and 
once they were comfortably seated before the 
big Franklin stove inquired, “What is the mat- 
ter with Mt. Crow! Charlie seems to think it’s 
a bugaboo place.” 

“No good for Young Chief to speak-um like 
that of place,” mumbled the Indian. “Place 
no good. Bad spirits live there. ’ ’ 


OLD FRIENDS 


65 


‘‘I should say they were good spirits,’’ 
grinned Bub. “We put in the night there and 
found a cosy fire burning and a big ham waiting 
to be cooked.” 

Abner’s thin face puckered up with a puzzled 
frown. “See here, younker,” he sternly com- 
manded, “kindly explain them words. How’d 
ye come to be snooping north of this camp and 
prowling round the Mt. Crow neighborhood?” 

Bub blushed violently. But with a brave ef- 
fort he confessed that he had lost his way in the 
storm. Ordinarily Abner would have had no 
mind for anything but framing a proper rebuke 
for a kinsman who would be guilty of losing his 
way. Now, however, something else seemed to 
occupy his thoughts and he gave the explanation 
scarcely any heed. 

“Well, what happened to ye?” he finally 
asked, casting a knowing glance at the grave- 
faced Indian. 

“Nothing,” lightly replied Bub. “We found 
a fire burning and we discovered a ham. Cub 
made a chowder that was punk. That’s all.” 

“So that’s all, eh?” mused Abner, his face 
lighting up. “Some tramp probably squatting 
there for the night and took fright when ye 
pulled in. But by jingo, I don’t see how he 
come to git one of my hams !’^ 


66 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘That’s all except we heard some one chop- 
ping wood at midnight,” added Stanley. 

The Indian made a deep groaning noise and 
cast an apprehensive glance over his shoulder 
at the door and muttered, “Bad spirits. Ugh! 
Injun no like-um.” 

“The Gray Axeman,” uneasily murmured 
Abner, combing his long fingers through his 
gray beard. “Did ye see him?” 

“Not a sign,” replied Stanley, his face re- 
vealing his bewilderment. “What and who is 
this Gray Axeman, anyway?” 

Before Abner could answer Cub excitedly 
broke in, “I saw him, Abner. His face is all 
covered with hair. He’s an awful-looking 
sight. He was peeking in the window. The 
fellows wouldn’t believe I saw him, but I did. 
Then they went to work and kept mum about 
this wood-chopping business.” 

“You two act as if you were scared,” com- 
mented Bub, very curious for Abner to explain 
his mysterious words more fully. ‘ ‘ Tell us the 
yarn. ’ ’ 

“Guess ye’ll tell us yer yarn first, young 
man,” sternly directed Abner. “And be care- 
ful not to leave out anything.” 

Realizing this was the quickest way to ob- 
tain any information Bub began and gave in de- 


OLD FBIENDS 


67 


tail the events of their trip through the storm. 
As he proceeded, occasionally prompted by 
Stanley and Cub, Noisy Charlie grunted softly. 
The Indian was not afraid of anything that 
walked on two or four legs, hut in common with 
many of his people he was given to believing 
the supernatural. While he would laugh at a 
charging hull moose he would hesitate to cruise 
near a locality that possessed the name of be- 
ing haunted. Abner, much less given to super- 
stition, had not lived all his life in the woods 
without being touched by prevailing notions. 
Unable to explain many phenomena of nature 
he disliked to probe into them. They were to 
be ‘‘left alone he had often told Bub, when 
that young man evinced too much curiosity. 

The incident of the shallow cave and the dis- 
appearing axe agitated the Indian to a keen de- 
gree. Its return and the theft of the boys ’ sup- 
plies failed to excite him to anger. It all was 
the work of a spirit. The fire in the camp puz- 
zled him and almost caused him to decide the 
spirit of the Mt. Crow region was amiably in- 
clined towards the boys. But the chopping of 
the tree at midnight caused him grave perturba- 
tion. 

“Listen, Charlie,’’ pleaded Stanley; “why 
should a spirit, whether good or bad, need an 


68 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


axe? Why should a ha’nt steal our grub?’^ 

‘‘Trying to make-um boy stay away,” quickly 
returned the Indian. 

“But he didnT succeed,” broke in Bub. 
“I^m not afraid of a ha^nt that has to steal 
grub to keep folks out of a place.” 

“Eobert Thomas, any more disrespectful talk 
like that and 111 larrup ye even if ye be in 
college,” coldly warned Abner. “I don’t go 
for to say I believe in speerits as Charlie does, 
but I believe in being polite in speaking about 
things I don’t understand.” 

“Old Fox make-um good talk,” warmly ap- 
proved Charlie. 

“This talk is all bosh,” said Cub. “If 
it’s a spirit why does he need a ham and the 
fire ? It either is a man who likes to keep warm 
and knows enough to appreciate one of Abner’s 
prime hams, or else it’s a ha’nt that’s hanker- 
ing for company and was so tickled to have us 
call that it prepared the fire and grub for us.” 

“Fat boy have big medicine. Mebbe spirit 
like-um,” suggested Charlie, who stood some- 
what in awe of Cub’s methods of springing sur- 
prises. 

“You’ve heard our yarn,” reminded Bub. 
“Now tell us about what it all means? Why 
did your men begin operating up there and then 


OLD FRIENDS 


69 


quit without snaking the timber to the land- 
ing! Why were such comfortable camps aban- 
doned and valuable timber left to blow down or 
burn up?’’ 

“It ain’t been left to blow down,” shortly de- 
nied Abner. “Next year I’m going to git a 
crew of P. I. (Prince Edward Island) loggers 
and clean up that stuff in two jumps. They’ll 
be new to the country and I’ll take them in afore 
they have a chance to hear any stories. What’s 
down is down and must be left. I tried to get 
some of the men to return and haul the timber to 
the landing, but the way they backed up showed 
me that if I pressed the p’int I’d not only lose 
them from the Mt. Crow region but also from 
the Squawtooth. And, younker, we’ve got too 
big a cut here to take any chances. I’ve 
threshed out the whole thing with Hatton and 
he agrees with me. The game ain’t worth the 
candle just now.” 

“Still some time and money were used in 
building the camps,” reminded Stanley. 

“The camps will be there when we want 
them,” moodily replied Abner. 

“Better tell Young Chief all,” gravely ad- 
vised the Indian. “Him and Young Fox very 
wise. Fat boy is Big Medicine — make boat that 
fly likeum bird on ice. Turn crank and make- 


70 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


um box sing and talk.’^ The last referred to 
Cub’s manipulation of Foster Farnum’s phono- 
graph, the Indian always insisting it was Cub ’s 
‘‘medicine” that made it talk. 

“I intended to keep it to myself, but s’pose 
I might as well loosen up, ’ ’ surrendered Abner. 
“Sooner it’s over, sooner we can eat supper.” 


CHAPTER V 


ABNER. EXPLAINS 

The boys settled themselves to listen and Ab- 
ner began; cmised the Mt. Crow region 
more ^n a year ago. I satisfied myself there was 
lots of prime timber, virgin growth, and planned 
accordingly. Last fall I sent up a crew and 
had the camps and hoss-hovels put up. Then 
the men followed to fell the timber. 

‘‘When the men who put up the camps re- 
turned they was full of yarns about finding trees 
already cut. Some of them even claimed they 
heard someone chopping. Hogan, whom we all 
trust, is a shrewd observer. He said that every 
tree he found felled was weakly rooted. It 
seemed as if some one well used to lumbering 
had killed time by felling those trees that ought 
to come down. Still I thought nothing of this, 
thinking it must be some squatter, some camper 
or a party of sportsmen. Then trouble began 
in earnest. Five of the men returned in a bunch 
and said they^d work on the Squawtooth, but 
wouldn’t stay anywhere near Mt. Crow. Their 
71 


72i THE YOUNG LOGGEES 

story was that the place was haunted — ’’ 

‘‘Bad spirit walkum woods/ ^ gravely ob- 
truded Charlie. 

“I cross-examined every man-jack of ’em/’ 
continued Abner, “and learned that after the 
snow fell this mysterious person, or whatever he 
is, was still busy chopping. The funny part of 
it was he usually operated at night during a 
snowstorm or when there was a heavy wind — ” 

“That’s so his tracks would be covered up,” 
interrupted Boh. 

“Bad spirit no make-um tracks,” rebuked 
Charlie. “Little Fox talk too much; need-um 
blanket.” This silenced Bub for the time, as 
Charlie ’s blanket treatment consisted of seizing 
the offender by the nape of the neck and press- 
ing his face into the blankets of the nearest bunk 
till he was half suffocated. Having taken the 
treatment many times Bub had no desire to re- 
peat his experience. 

“Younkers is usually more knowing than 
grown-ups, ’ ’ ironically reminded Abner. ‘ ‘ The 
men took a different view of it. They held that 
ha’nts always like dark, stormy nights to wan- 
der round in.” 

Suppressing a smile at the old cruiser’s earn- 
estness Stanley inquired, “But surely the men 
tried to find this chopper?” 


AENER EXPLAINS 


73 


“Hogan did/^ admitted Abner, impressively. 
“He started a still hunt for him. But never 
could catch nary a glimpse of him. ’ ’ 

“I’ll bet it was one of our own gang trying 
to scare the crew into quitting the region,” 
cried Stanley. 

“Young Chief talk crooked,” grumbled Char- 
lie. 

“But no one has seen this man, ha’nt, or 
spirit, or whatever you like to call him, ’ ’ remon- 
strated Stanley with a touch of impatience. 

“Young Chief on wrong trail. Me see-um,” 
quietly informed the Indian. 

Instantly he was the focus for three pair of 
keen eyes and Bub demanded, “Then suppose 
you tell us what you know. Abner fusses round 
with other men’s stories and you, an eye-wit- 
ness, don’t utter a peep. What did he look 
like ? Did he have horns 1 Did he wear a white 
sheet Did he make a hollow groan and scare 
you off the lot?” 

“Young Fox very near blanket,” wrathfully 
warned Charlie, his muscular brown hand creep- 
ing towards the speaker’s collar. 

“He’ll be good. Go ahead, Charlie,” urged 
Stanley. “Tell us what you saw.” 

“I ought to explain that after hearing the 
bleating of the five men I sent Charlie up there 


74 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


without telling him anything, knowing he ’d dis- 
cover facts for himself,’’ explained Abner. 

The Indian frowned gloomily at the stove and 
continued, ‘‘I make-um camp in wide circle, 
coming down from North. I hear-um blows of 
axe. I think mebbe chopper work at night. 
Think-um crazy to work at night. I creep up 
close and see tall gray man — tall gray spirit, us- 
ing axe. ’ ’ 

^Hf it was at night how could you tell if the 
man was gray?” cross-examined Cub. 

‘‘Snow white. Trees black. Man gray,” 
sententiously insisted the Indian. “Couldn’t 
see-um face. Snow began falling. I call out, 
‘Hello!’ Gray man go out of sight soft like 
rifle smoke blowing away. Poof I And he 
wasn’t there. No leave-um tracks.” 

“Did you look for tracks or try to follow 
him?” pressed Bub. 

“Not then; too dark. Look in morning. No 
find-um, ’ ’ gravely continued Charlie. ‘ ‘ I make- 
um camp and find men scared very bad. Tree 
fall and almost catch-um one man and kill-um.” 

“Seems this unnatural varmint cunningly 
lodged a tree near a clump of spruce that the 
men were about to fall,” broke in Abner. 
“When they tackled the clump down came the 
spruce. The choppers just managed to git clear 


ABNER EXPLAINS 


75 


of it. They examined it and found it had been 
lodged in the clump sometime during the night. ’ ’ 

Stanley’s face became very grave. Up till 
now he had considered the whole tale as a silly 
business; either the men’s imagination or the 
attempt of some revengeful woodsman to 
frighten the company’s loggers from their work. 
But a man who would allow his resentment to 
deliberately plan an injury to a logger made the 
situation more serious. ‘ ‘ That was probably an 
accident,” he hopefully suggested. ‘‘Nothing 
like that happened again, did there!” 

With a smirk of satisfaction, believing he had 
at last carried conviction to the boys Abner as- 
sured, “Not once, but several times. Accidents 
kept happening almost every day. That’s why 
Hogan got desperate and tried to find the 
feller.” 

“And yet Charlie was the only one to see 
him,” mused Cub. 

“Me see-um. Fat boy believe me see-um!” 
And the Indian’s eyes compelled Cub to hastily 
reply: 

“I’m positive of it, Charlie. If you’ve any 
blanket medicine to hand out, give it to Bub. 
He’s my friend and when you blanket him, you 
blanket me.” 

“At last one of the men was hurt at one of 


76 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


the yards,’’ said Abner. ‘Ht was where they’d 
sluiced the logs down off a steep cant to a small 
ledge overhanging the stream what runs south- 
east into Dead Eiver. The idea was to dump 
the logs down into the stream once the yarding 
was finished. One of the men was returning to 
camp, following the stream. Just as he got un- 
derneath the ledge a big log come crashing down 
almost on top of him. One end of it just grazed 
him, sending him flying into the brook. 
Bruised him all up, nearly broke his neck and 
scared him blue.” 

‘‘What time of day was this!” asked Stanley. 

“Near dark. Woods filled with shadows,” 
moodily informed Charlie. 

“So far as I can figure out everything un- 
wholesome up there happens after dark,” 
mused Stanley. “No one was injured in day- 
light, eh!” 

“Except when the man come near gitting 
caught by a lodged tree,” retorted Abner. 

“The same having been lodged during the 
night,” reminded Bub. “No one has seen this 
strange individual except Charlie and that was 
after dark. The accident at the yard — ” 

“It wasn’t any accident,” warmly protested 
Abner. “Think Charlie and Hogan and the 
men are blame fools! They went up to the top 


ABNER EXPLAINS 


77 


of the ledge and found where the log had laid. 
It wasn’t within ten feet of the lip of the ledge 
and had to be moved up a slight slope. It would 
have took two of our men to do the job. Now 
^ what be ye going to call it that picks up a big log 
and tosses it down on one of our menP’ 

‘‘I’ll call him a very strong man, an expert in 
using a peavey,” firmly answered Stanley. 
“You men may as well know now as later that 
none of us boys put any stock whatever in this 
ghost business. Nor does the Great Northern 
Company. Whatever happens can be explained 
away if you stick to it long enough. Ha’nts 
don’t steal and give axes, they don’t steal your 
prime hams — ” 

“That ham was left up there with the other 
supplies, as I expected to visit the camps,” 
broke in Abner. 

“And they don’t build fires to keep warm 
by,” concluded the boy. 

“Mebbe spirit like boys and build fire for 
um,” slowly hazarded Charlie. 

“I suppose the accident at the yard was the 
finishing stroke,” observed Cub. “The men 
quit after that, eh?” 

“They certainly did. They came in here like 
a run-way drive. I had all I could do to git 
them into a boom and make them keep their 


78 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


mouths shet. If they’d gone babbling round 
the camps here we’d had all the men asking 
for their time.” 

^‘Well, what do you make of it all and what 
do you propose to do about the timber already 
down?” was Stanley’s double-barrel query. 

Abner plucked his beard for a moment, and 
then replied: can’t run any risk of interfer- 

ing with the work here for the sake of getting 
the stuff at Mt. Crow down to a landing. Next 
year I’ll put in a new crew and snake it out. 
By that time whoever, or whatever, is operating 
so peculiar-like up there will have quit the job. 
As to what it all means I opine that this gray 
axeman wants to keep us out of that particular 
neck of the woods.” 

Spirit don’t want white man cutting-um 
wood,” grunted the Indian. 

‘Hs Jim Hogan here now?” anxiously asked 
Stanley. 

‘^He certainly is,” replied Abner. ‘^Now 
what might ye be up to ? ” 

was thinking we boys could take a few men 
with sand and return to Mt. Crow and get that 
stuff down to a landing,” replied Stanley. 

That’s the ticket,” enthusiastically cried 
Bub. ‘‘We’ll only need a few. Cub can do the 
cooking; Hogan can be boss. There are sleds 


ABNER EXPLAINS 


79 


and harness up there. We can take the horses 
through the woods, for you must have swamped 
a road to get them there last fall. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Of course there a road from this camp to 
Mt. Crow,’’ spluttered Abner, ‘‘but if ye three 
younkers have any idee of operating that tract 
ye can fergit it now and at once and instantly.” 

“Give-um all long blanket medicine,” angrily 
advised Charlie. 

“We’re going back there,” stoutly persisted 
Stanley. “If you’ll lend us Hogan I’ll guar- 
antee he can pick up three or four men who’ll 
be game to go with us. Then you can come up 
and keep an eye on us and Charlie can cruise 
round the camp and watch out for this gray axe- 
man. You’d go if we did, wouldn’t you, 
Charlie r’ 

The Indian’s devotion to his young friends 
was amply proved by his quick nod and low as- 
surance. “Me go anywhere Young Chief, 
Young Pox and Fat Medicine Boy go. No like- 
um go, but go. ’ ’ 

The boys seized him by the hand in turn and 
testified to their affection. They knew the In- 
dian’s superstitious nature made the proposed 
experience a difficult one to go through with. 
Only his unswerving loyalty to them could in- 
duce him to visit Mt. Crow. 


80 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Eealizing he was committed to the adventure 
he hopefully remarked: ‘‘Mebbe fat boy have 
medicine that scare-um spirit T’ 

Cub smothered a grin and seriously prom- 
ised, “111 show just as big medicine as any 
spirit will at Mt. Crow. You 11 be safe with me, 
Charlie. Ill take care of you.^^ 

Even the Indian ^s gloomy frame of mind 
could not suppress a sharp twinkle of his bright 
eyes at these confident words. Cub alternately 
amused him and amazed him. He knew the boy 
was guilty of some terrific blunders as a woods- 
man, yet he seemed to have a knack of doing the 
most unusual things successfully. 

Abner now re-entered the conversation, com- 
plaining, “Ding my old hide! Who’s the walk- 
ing boss of these camps! When did the Great 
Northern put ye cubs in charge of its affairs! 
So, ye kindly give me permission to visit Mt. 
Crow, eh! Well, the first one caught cruising 
in that direction will learn what I can do with a 
tug for a strap. If I thought that onery Bub 
put such idees into yer head, Stanley, I’d lam- 
baste him right now, jest as I have many times 
afore — but not often enough for his own good.” 

These threats of chastisement always amused 
the boys, as Abner under no circumstances could 
ever be induced to lay a hand on his young kins- 


ABNER EXPLAINS 


81 


man. ‘‘It’s all my own idea,” seriously de- 
clared Stanley. “I shall go if I have to go 
alone. There’s nothing we can do here, but 
loaf. You’ve got a full crew and are about to 
break out to the landings. I suppose all the 
camps from here to Hood Mountain and Briar 
Stream are well up with their work.” 

Abner would dearly have liked to answer in 
the negative and persuade the boys to stay on 
the Squawtooth. But his honest old heart never 
permitted him to deceive them. He knew they 
believed implicitly everything he told them. 
It was this complete confidence that had en- 
deared them to each other. “No, there ain’t 
anything ye can do round here,” he regretfully 
replied. “If I’d known this was going to hap- 
pen I’d have sent some of the men back to the 
settlement and put ye on in their places, claim- 
ing I was short-handed. But ye ’ve got the best 
of me. After supper we’ll talk with Hogan 
and see what he says. If he’ll go I’ll have to 
give in. But as for going alone, no, sir-ee! 
Not if I have to tie ye up and ship ye back to 
yer uncle.” 

And Stanley knew he meant the last and that 
all their plans depended upon Hogan. At this 
point the supper bell rang and Abner leaped 
towards the door as though fearing some one 


82 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


might reach the cook’s camp ahead of him and 
appropriate his share of the victuals. Charlie 
winked gravely at the amused boys and mum- 
bled, ‘‘Old Fox run big race when cruising for 
grub. Eh 1 ’ 

The boys were prime favorites with the log- 
gers, as many in the crew had met them in the 
previous fall when they were busy weaving a 
web of guilt around Louis Ranee, the local boss 
on the Squawtooth. Their welcome was ac- 
cordingly warm and boisterous as they entered 
the cook’s camp. The long tables, neatly cov- 
ered with oil-cloth and piled high with steam- 
ing bowls of baked beans, huge mounds of 
doughnuts, with stewed beef at convenient in- 
tervals, appealed strongly to the young loggers. 
Cub rushed for an end seat and collided with 
Abner. While the two were disentangling 
themselves Stanley appropriated the desired 
seat with Bub on his right. 

“When I was young the younkers had some 
manners,” growled Abner, crowding a chopper 
aside and taking a place beside Bub. “What 
ye trying to do 1 Git a corner on them beans 1 ’ ’ 
And he anticipated his young kinsman by reach- 
ing for a bowl and helping himself liber- 
ally. 

“Sure, dear, and it’s mighty tickled I am to 


ABNER EXPLAINS 83 

see you/^ broke in a rich brogue behind Stan- 
ley. 

‘‘Hello, Hogan,’’ cried Stanley, giving him 
a warm hand-shake. “I want to see yon right 
after supper at Abner’s camp.” 

“The boys was planning on a bit of a dance,” 
informed Hogan. “And it’s said that Mister 
Blaine can tease a squirrel from a bush with 
fiddle music.” 

“Meaning you want him to play for the ball, 
eh?” grinned Stanley. “That’s easily ar- 
ranged. Come to the camp first and we’ll all 
attend the party after we’ve had a talk.” 

“I don’t know about your hiring me out as 
an orchestra,” grumbled Cub. “I’ve made 
some extensive plans for sleeping.” 

“Your fiddle music may be the means of in- 
ducing some good men to go with us to Mt. 
Crow,” whispered Stanley. “Play them otf 
their feet.” 

For the next half-hour the room was filled 
with the clamor of tin plates, case-knives 
and forks and the rattle of the coffee-mugs. 
The cookee rushed from table to table, filling 
and refilling the meat and bean receptacles and 
pouring coffee. The men lived well, with meat 
three times a day. During a lull in his efforts 
the cookee found time to place before Abner a 


84 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


large slice of ham, broiled especially for his 
benefit. Bub ^s eyes glinted and reaching round 
the bowed shoulders of his kinsman he gave Cub 
a knowing poke. Then he attracted Abner’s 
attention by some erroneous remark as the best 
way to bush a road, causing the unsuspecting 
victim to turn aside and soundly berate him for 
nearly a minute. During that brief period Cub 
generously helped himself to the slice of ham. 

Abner turned to resume his supper but was in- 
stantly met with a query from Cub as to the 
harmlessness of the destructive saw-fly, at that 
time threatening the company’s spruce through- 
out the state. Again the veteran cruiser al- 
lowed his indignation to banish his appetite and 
in great sorrow he condemned Cub for being 
an ignoramus. Bub seized the opportunity to 
appropriate nearly all of the ham. Noisy 
Charlie had watched these larcenous proceed- 
ings with sparkling eyes. He understood Ab- 
ner’s liking for broiled ham and he keenly rel- 
ished the boys’ mischief. 

‘‘And the next time ye have any fool remark 
to make about a saw-fly being a harmless little 
critter I wish ye’d save me from being ashamed 
by doing it — Land of sin ! Where ’s that ham 1 ’ ’ 

“Didn’t you eat your ham?” mumbled Bub 
between large mouthfuls. 


ABNER EXPLAINS 


85 


‘‘Gorge yourself with ham and then expect 
to have as much as when you started in eating,’^ 
sniffed Cub. 

“But I ain^t had any, not a taste, cried Ab- 
ner, eyeing the small piece on his plate with 
worried gaze. “I vum to goodness — ” Then 
he paused and stiffened, his sharp gaze staring 
accusingly at Bub’s plate. Slowly turning his 
head he caught Cub about to deposit the last of 
his stolen prize in his mouth. With a deep 
grunt of indignation he seized each by the neck 
and by leaning back banged their heads smartly 
together. “That’s the way I serve ham steal- 
ers,” he hotly proclaimed. 

“Young Fox get caught in own trap,” chuck- 
led Charlie. 

After supper Hogan repaired to Abner’s 
camp, where Stanley briefly outlined his plans. 
In conclusion he said, “It all depends on my 
getting you and several other men with sand 
to go with us. We can haul that timber out to 
the landing just like a fly. It isn’t the worth 
of the stuff as much as it’s the moral example to 
the men. Next fall the company will want some 
extensive operating done on that piece. Abner 
is willing for you to go with us. What sayr’ 

“Sure I’ll go, dear,” quickly replied Hogan. 
“And if Mister Blaine will saw out a lively tune 


86 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


at the bunk-house I know half a dozen husky 
lads who’ll follow him just for the sake of the 
fiddling. And no ha’nt or banshee can stand 
the sound of a fiddle. ’ ’ 

‘‘Ugh!” excitedly exclaimed Charlie. “Me 
know um fat boy have big medicine to scare 
bad spirit. He make um fiddle make spirit 
run. ’ ’ 

“Do your best, Cub, and remember you’re 
fiddling for the Great Northern,” whispered 
Stanley as the little party hurried to the bunk- 
house. 

“Wait till you hear ‘Irish Wash ’woman’ and 
‘Money Musk’,” grinned Cub. 

The men were eagerly awaiting them and 
cheered loudly when they entered the room. 
Cub promptly climbed to a chair on top of a 
barrel and received the fiddle from Hogan. 
Then the latter loudly announced, ‘ ‘ Choose your 
partners, ye tarriers, for Boston Fancy.” 

Cub gave a preliminary scrape of the bow, 
tuned the instrument for a few seconds, and then 
swung off into a rollicking lilt that sent the 
moccasined feet prancing back and forth as the 
men enthusiastically entered into the spirit of 
the fun. 

To Charlie the boy’s performance appealed 
as something marvelous. His black eyes glit- 


ABNER EXPLAINS 


87 


tered and his limbs began to twitch as the music 
crept into possession of his simple mind. At 
last he gave a loud yell and jumped frantically 
about as though desirous of doing a war-dance. 
Almost instantly he recovered his usual com- 
posure by a mighty effort and quietly informed 
Stanley: ^ ‘Injun go where fiddle go. No scared 
of bad spirit when fiddle make-um talk.’^ 


CHAPTER VI 


OFF FOR CAMP CROW 

By morning Abner had completely surren- 
dered and appointed another man as barn boss 
in the place of Hogan. The latter quickly found 
four men who were willing to work at the Mt. 
Crow camps. The chief problem was to get 
the horses up there. True there was a road 
swamped from the Squawtooth to the mountain, 
but as it had not been used during the winter, 
and inasmuch as the snow had fallen to a depth 
of several feet it would be a slow and tedious 
task to drive the animals over it. Abner di- 
rected that two light travois sleds be packed se- 
curely with supplies, including a quarter of beef, 
and advised that once a week if not oftener a 
man be sent down to the Squawtooth with a 
tote-sled for more. 

Noisy Charlie reminded them that some fif- 
teen miles up the road was a rough horse-hovel, 
built during the previous fall, and urged the lit- 
tle crew to break the journey there, putting up 
lean-tos for themselves. This would leave only 
88 




OFF FOR CAMP CROW 


89 


some five miles to be covered on the second day, 
allowing them to arrive at the camps in ample 
time to line the bunks with fresh boughs, get 
up a necessary amount of firewood and set the 
camps in thorough order. The second day in 
camp could be used, he suggested, in cruising 
about the tract, allowing the horses a day of 
rest. It would also be necessary to locate the 
various yards, establish the point where they 
would haul the logs to a landing, and overhaul 
the harness. 

After a brief inspection of the camp the boys 
announced their willingness to set forth, and 
followed by a volley of well-wishing they swung 
out into the two-sled road, intending to follow 
it so long as it led north. Charlie accompanied 
them until they struck the snow-filled road lead- 
ing to Mt. Crow. Here he halted and with 
his accustomed brusqueness said, ‘‘Good-by. 
Take-um good care not git hurt.’’ 

“Why, I thought he was going with us,” 
gasped Cub, as the Indian wheeled and strode 
otf through the forest. 

“You can never tell what he’s going to do 
till after he’s done it,” said Bub regretfully. 
“Never a hand-shake; just ‘good-by’ and he’s 
gone. ’ ’ 

“That’s the Indian of it,” sighed Stanley, 


90 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


who was loath to lose the Indian. ‘‘But Idl 
say this : whenever we need him in a rush he has 
a wonderful knack of turning up at the right 
moment. Now, Hogan, how shall we pro- 
ceed U’ 

Hogan scanned the narrow aisle sharply and 
shook his head in deep disappointment. “It’s 
sure a hard job we have forninst us, dear,” he 
lamented. “I’d hoped the snow had packed 
hard, but it’ll be cruel wading for the bastes. 
Let all of you go ahead so your shoes will tram- 
ple it down a bit. Then we’ll do the best we 
can, as Paddy O’Brien said when he had to 
stand on his head in a well for two mortal hours 
waiting for some one to haul him out.” 

The boys and men at once advanced in double 
file, tramping the surface snow compactly. This 
helped more than a little, yet the animals strug- 
gled woefully to make any headway. Trained 
to work in the woods the intelligent brutes 
saved their strength and quietly waited to be 
aided when encountering an unusual deep 
stretch of snow. In some places, where the 
wind had a clear sweep, the travel was moder- 
ately easy. At other times deep drifts were 
encountered which could not be passed until the 
men had used the shovels industriously. The 
boys had smiled when Abner added the latter 


OFF FOR CAMP CROW 


91 


useful implements to the sleds ; now they appre- 
ciated their value. 

^‘It^s lucky we’re no hay- wire outfit,” puffed 
Hogan, after extricating the head team from a 
bad hole in a gully. In the woods vernacular a 
‘‘hay-wire outfit” is a term of contempt for a 
poor logging equipment. 

The genial Irishman’s manner, his way of 
laughing when facing disagreeable odds kept 
the men in high spirits and gave a picnic air 
to the whole adventure. The weather held clear 
and cold and the men assured each other that 
could they make the horse-hovel without en- 
countering a storm they would defy the elements 
to keep them back. 

Near mid-day Cub volunteered to prepare a 
lunch if the men would halt. His suggestion 
was greeted with a most hearty endorsement, 
and with many skillful hands to aid in the work 
of building and feeding the fire he soon had a 
ten-quart pail of steaming tea, an abundance of 
bread and cheese, supplemented with doughnuts 
and a generous helping of mince-pie. 

“Sure, darling, you’re a white-water man,” 
approved Hogan as he finished his pie and 
stared hungrily at the empty tin plate. 

“I take it you’re praising me, but I don’t 
know what it means, ’ ’ smiled Cub. 


92 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Shame for your ignorance,” chided Bub. 
‘‘As if any man in the woods didn’t know that 
a ‘white-water man’ means one who’s an expert 
in the breaking up a log- jam in swift current. 
It means you’re a jim-dandy, child.” 

“He’s good enough to tag to the North Pole 
so long as he sets out as good grub as this,” 
warmly assured a teamster. 

“As good as this?” sniffed Stanley. “This 
stuff all came from the cook-house. Wait till 
Cub lets loose on his own cooking. You fellows 
will hate to go back to regulation fare once 
you’ve eaten it.” 

The men shook their heads incredulously. It 
seemed impossible that food could ever taste 
better than that meal eaten in zero weather in 
the heart of the virgin forest. But as it 
wouldn’t do to keep the animals standing, the 
journey was quickly resumed. In fact, the men 
had barely allowed the horses to snatch a hasty 
meal of hay before they were urging them on up 
the road, taking turns to relieve each other 
while the lunch was being eaten. 

Slowly and arduously the little procession 
plodded on till the blue of the heavens faded 
out to a faint gray, foretelling the coming of 
the first shadows of night. Day closes early in 
the winter woods and by four o’clock Hogan 


OFF FOR CAMP CROW 


93 


was urging the boys to hasten on ahead and find 
the hovel and begin work erecting two lean-tos. 
Glad to he released from the tedium of breaking 
road the three swiftly disappeared up the 
gloomy road, casting keen glances to either side 
in hopes of sighting the hovel. As it was their 
first trip over the road they had only a vague 
idea as to where the hovel would be found. 
Bub insisted they had covered a good fifteen 
^ miles, allowing a scant two miles to the hour. 
Cub vehemently insisted they had walked 
a hundred and must be far north of Mt. 
Crow. 

‘^What’s that snow-covered mass dead 
ahead r’ curiously inquired Stanley. 

‘‘Nothing but a wigwam,’^ said Bub. 

‘ ‘ A wigwam ? Why, we can stop there then, ’ ’ 
Stanley was saying when Cub laughed aloud 
and pitied: 

“To think you don’t know what Bub means! 
He means several trees have been felled in such 
a fashion as to lodge against each other, making 
the skeleton of a gigantic wigwam.” 

“Take a lesson, Stan, from the child. I sup- 
posed every one knew what that meant,” said 
Bub. 

“You may think you know what you mean, 
but it isn’t even that kind of a wigwam,” quietly 


94 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


informed Stanley. ‘‘For I see a dark opening 
which I take to be a door. It the hovel. ^ ’ 

“Yon Ye right exulted Bub. “We might 
have passed it by if you hadn’t noticed. See, 
it’s built on a rise and what I took to be the 
snow-covered underbrush at the base is the 
ledge. J ust in time ! It ’s getting dark. ’ ’ 

Enthusiastic to have everything in readiness 
for the weary loggers somewhere down the road 
the three boys first devoted their attention to 
felling saplings and erecting two lean-tos, facing 
each other. Between these they lighted a big 
fire, and while Cub turned to preparing for sup- 
per Stanley and Bub brought in boughs for the 
beds and added more boughs to the slanting 
roofs. Each lean-to was wide enough to accom- 
modate five men and there were but eight in 
their party. This done they could do nothing 
except accumulate more fuel till the travois sleds 
came up with the supplies. The hovel was tight 
and dry and would accommodate the horses 
comfortably. 

It was while listening to hear the tinkle of the 
bells announcing the approach of the sleds that 
Bub raised a hand and gestured for silence. 

“I heard a crashing back in the woods,” he 
whispered. 

“Deer or moose,” said Stanley. 


OFF FOR CAMP CROW 


95 


‘‘A bear,” stoutly insisted Cub. 

‘‘A bear, you ninny!” scornfully replied Bub. 
‘‘The bears are denned up for the winter. 
You’re almost as bad, Stan. Think a deer or a 
moose would stick round at our elbows while we 
were making all this racket? The first sniff of 
us, let alone the smoke, would send them miles. 
It’s a man.” 

“Or the gray axeman,” shivered Cub, strain- 
ing his eyes to penetrate the gloomy depths of 
the forest. 

“Maybe,” muttered Bub, looking about for 
some weapon. “Well, if it’s the axeman I hope 
he steers clear of us. We haven’t anything but 
our hatchets.” 

“I heard it just then,” softly announced 
Stanley. 

“Yes, and it’s lots nearer,” murmured Bub. 
“This axeman seems to be a queer sort of a 
chap. After hearing how he tried to kill the 
man at the landing I’m sort of nervous about 
meeting him. What say to withdrawing into 
the hovel? I don’t want to act the coward, but 
Abner taught me when I was a kid that it was 
foolish to take unnecessary chances. The hovel 
is built stoutly of logs and if he tried to come 
through the door we’d have some show of down- 
ing him.” 


96 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Wise boy,’’ readily agreed Stanley, begin- 
ning to feel a bit apprehensive. “Hear him 
now?” 

The others nodded, their face paling a bit. 
The stealthy crackling in the undergrowth was 
growing nearer each moment. They knew it 
could be no wild animal. And besides them- 
selves what men could be roaming the forest? 
The loggers were far down the road and would 
not arrive for some time. The only answer to 
their silent query was the axeman. They were 
within five miles of the Mt. Crow camp. Obvi- 
ously he had roamed south and had been at- 
tracted by their fire and talking. 

The hovel was equipped with a door of boards, 
nailed loosely to hinges of leather. There was 
no way of fastening it as the place had not been 
planned for defensive purposes. But with the 
exception of the door there was no ingress to 
the hovel. The builders had eliminated win- 
dows and other apertures, desiring to make it 
tight so that the heat from the horses could be 
conserved and help to keep them warm. As 
Stanley ducked inside his moccasins slipped 
on a broken axe handle. He seized it for a 
weapon. 

“It’s right back of us,” whispered Cub, his 
eyes shining in the darkness. “Guess you’ll 


OFF FOE CAMP CROW 97 

admit now that I saw him at the window the 
other night.” 

‘ ‘ Did he look very fierce ? ^ ’ asked Bub. 

‘‘Fierce!” gasped Cub. “I shall dream of 
him for ages. Face all covered with hair — and 
such eyes.” 

“Quit describing him,” pleaded Stanley. 
“IVe only got about an ounce of nerve left. 
Wish it wouldn^t make me feel cheap to yell for 
the men.” 

“Let Cub yell for them,” urged Bub. 

But Cub developed unusual moral strength 
and sternly refused, saying, “No, sir! Not if 
I’m eaten alive. You’ll never have a chance to 
say Cub Blaine yelped for help, but that his two 
brave friends were ashamed to do the same. 
Can’t make a catspaw of me, my son. I don’t 
care if it’s the gray axeman and all his rela- 
tions. I’m going to sit tight and — ” 

“Hold your tongue,” warned Bub in a low 
whisper. “It’s clear of the woods. It’s right 
behind this hovel. I can hear him sniffing at 
the logs.” 

“Maybe he smells us,” gurgled Stanley, his 
forehead now perspiring freely. 

“He may not know we’re in here,” faintly 
comforted Bub. “Can’t you hear him man- 
euvering back of the hovel? Now he’s creeping 


98 ' THE YOUNG LOGGEES 

round the end. Now he^s crawling along the 
side.” 

As he suspended his nerve-racking recital the 
boys distinctly caught the shuffling tread of 
something just beyond the logs. What was 
most disturbing was the fact that the unknown 
was patently making for the front of the hovel 
and in the next few moments would be at the 
doorway. Neither of the boys was lacking in 
physical courage, and more than once each had 
proven his moral fiber to be of the sturdiest. 
But this insidious approach, the subtle menace 
in the slow foot-steps, the memory of all the un- 
wholesome tales they had heard about the axe- 
man, served to shake their courage. It was the 
suspense, the speculation as to what kind of 
creature they were to behold, that worked on 
their nerves. The Indian had described him 
as being a tall, gray figure. But Cub had in- 
sisted he was a hairy-faced monster with awful 
eyes. 

Now the cautious steps were close to the cor- 
ner of the hovel. In a moment the intruder 
would be abreast of the opening, and Stanley 
nudged his comrades to stand clear while he 
guarded the doorway with the upraised axe- 
handle. Down the road came the tinkle of the 
bells and the cheery cries of the teamsters.. 


OFF FOR CAMP CROW 


99 


Tliey could even catcli the rich brogue of Ho- 
gan ’s voice as he called out their names, hoping 
he was nearing the hovel. The boys longed for 
the men to catch sight of the fire and hurry 
forward. Yet pride held their tongues. Each 
was willing for the others to sound an alarm, but 
neither would take the initiative. 

‘^Wal, this is mighty curious,^’ spoke the man 
at the corner of the building. ‘^Dinged if it 
donT smack of them fairy stories them younkers 
used to spin. First I smell smoke, then I hear 
voices and see the red of a fire. But when I 
cruise up to it everything’s quiet as the grave 
and nary a person is in sight.” 

‘^Foster Farnum!” fairly shrieked Stanley, 
dropping his club and hurling himself through 
the doorway and into the astonished arms of the 
old trapper. 

His sudden outcry not only startled the old 
trapper but also caused Bub and Cub to jump 
back in affright. It required several seconds 
for the other two boys and the trapper to real- 
ize what had happened. Then Bub and Cub 
tore pell-mell out of the hovel and proceeded 
to dance hysterically about the old trapper. 

‘‘Consarn yer picters!” roared Foster, once 
he recovered his scattered senses. ‘^What ye 
mean by scaring the hair off ’n my head! What 


100 THE YOUNG LOGGEES 

ye mean by hiding up that way and ambushing 
me for!^^ 

‘^Hi, the fire!^^ bawled Hogan. ‘‘What^s the 
bloody row all about? Anyone hurted?’’ 

‘‘No, no,’’ called back Stanley. “We’re sim- 
ply welcoming an old friend — ^Foster Far- 
num.” 

“Sure I thought it must be a regimint of 
friends,” said Hogan. “I’m mighty glad he 
isn’t twins, for then you’d frighten the poor 
bosses out of their hides. ’ ’ 

“Hanged if it ain’t the younkers!” gasped 
Foster, grabbing each by the shoulder and giv- 
ing him a quick little shake. “Now I know 
what that pesky Injun meant by telling me to 
cruise due west till I struck the trail of some 
loggers and to f oiler them up till I’d talked 
with the boss. I vum! ain’t that an Injun trick 
for surprising a man. So ye knew I was com- 
ing and hid to scare me, eh? Wal, the joke is 
on me all right.” 

“No, Foster,” soberly corrected Bub; “we 
hid because we were cowards. We thought you 
were someone else^the gray axeman.” 

“The axeman?” muttered the old trapper in 
a disturbed voice. “And what might ye chil- 
dren have heard about any axeman ? And why 
be ye wandering so far from the Squawtooth 


OFF FOE CAMP CEOW 


101 


camps? Old Abner ought to be boss-whipped 
for letting ye out of sight.” 

‘‘As to the axeman we know as much about 
him as anyone does — and a little more,” said 
Stanley. 

“And we’re bound for Mt. Crow, where we’re 
going to haul out the fallen timber to the land- 
ing,” babbled Cub. 

“And you’re going with us because you like 
us,” ingenuously added Bub. 

“What! going up where the axeman hangs 
out? No, sir eel Not by a long chalk,” cried 
Foster, backing away. “Nor ye three young 
pups ain ’t going, neither. ’ ’ 

“We’re almost there,” said Stanley. And 
while the men were toiling towards them with 
the weary nags he briefly sketched the plan as 
agreed to by Abner. 

“If I had my way ye wouldn’t budge another 
step towards the north,” snorted Foster, sink- 
ing on to a log near the fire and fondling his long 
rifle lovingly. “It ain’t no place for a white 
man. And a Injun wouldn’t go there for any- 
thing.” 

“Noisy Charlie is going there,” quietly in- 
formed Cub. “When he learned what we were 
to do he said he’d go.” 

“Wal, I’ll be flambastedi” muttered Foster. 


102 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘H guess no Injun dares go where I donT dare 
go.’^ Then very seriously, ‘‘But this axeman 
is a queer proposition. I know ye donT feel 
the same about the woods as we older folks do. 
Ye have that cocksure, I-know-it-all way that 
most younkers do have these unregenerate days. 
But I Ve seen queer things in the woods. What- 
more, IVe cruised a bit round Crow Mountain. 
I was up in that neck of the woods right after 
ye quit my cabin to go back to school. I had the 
old hound along with me, thinking I M look over 
the country and see if it would furnish good 
trapping by another year. I struck this critter ’s 
track in a light snow. I^d heard about him. I 
tagged it all one day, bound to find out about 
him. But I couldnT catch up. Then I sent the 
old hound on ahead. What does he do — him a 
dog that ain’t afraid of nothing — but come back 
to me with his tail between his legs and the most 
meeching look in his eyes ye ever see. He sim- 
ply whined and begged to take the back track, 
and I decided what wa’n’t right for the hound 
to overtake didn’t have any particular charms 
for me. So I lit out for home. ’ ’ 

“Here are the men. Don’t tell them any of 
those yarns,” cautioned Stanley. “We’re go- 
ing through with it. ” 

“I won’t go,” growled the old trapper. 


OFF FOE CAMP CEOW 


103 


‘‘And that Abner onghter have his head exam- 
ined by some boss-doctor.^^ 

Hogan had met Foster on several occasions 
and gave him a hearty greeting. While the men 
were caring for the horses Cub opened the packs 
on the sleds and bustled about the fire preparing 
unlimited quantities of tea and meat. The lat- 
ter he broiled in a bread-toaster over the coals. 

No one had time or the inclination to talk until 
the supper had been fully attended to. Then the 
men lighted their pipes and reclined on their 
blankets, their heads to the fire, and discussed 
their good luck in making the hovel that day. 

“To make the mountain to-morrow will be a 
joke,’’ rejoiced one of the teamsters. “It’s 
mighty lucky we left plenty of fodder for the 
nags up there.” 

“We’ll be snug as two fleas on the same dog,” 
agreed Hogan. ‘ ‘ So you ’re going with us, Fos- 
ter. It’s a darling you are to do it. And if a 
deer tries to bite one of the men it’s a bit of 
fresh venison we’ll be after having for the pot. 
Good luck to your eyesight. ’ ’ 

“I ain’t killing no game out of season and I 
ain’t got no call to be fussing round the camp 
at Crow Mountain,” gruffly informed Foster. 

“Isn’t it great that Charlie happened to meet 
him and send him to us/’ cried Stanley, 


104 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Make the most of me for in the morning I 
shall say good-by,’^ growled Foster, puffing his 
pipe furiously. 

“He can tell us hunting stories at night,” 
murmured Cub. 

“It^s fine to be a free ranger on the company’s 
books,” added Bub. “Hogan will want to hear 
you tell how Cub shot the philalulu bird.” 

“Shut up, Bub Thomas,” mumbled Cub. “I 
guess I had you fellows guessing how I made 
the end of the lake so quick. You were all 
stunned till you found out about the ice-boat.” 

Despite his resolve not to proceed with them 
the old trapper’s face lighted up and his thin 
lips opened in a dry smile as he recalled the 
pranks of the boys while spending their holidays 
at his cabin. “It would take a month of Sun- 
days to tell ye all them younkers did, Hogan,” 
he chuckled. “I’ll have to take a night when 
everything is snug and nothing to interrupt — 
but I ain’t going to that camp.” 

“Sure, honey,” agreed Hogan. “Take all 
the time you want. You’ll never find any of us 
sleeping when you open up.” 

“I guess the time the bear come into the cabin 
and saved Stan from being batted round by the 
crazy feller was about as funny as anything,” 
slowly decided Foster. “But that’s Stan’s 


OFF FOE CAMP CROW 


105 


story by good rights. No, I won ’t go up there. ’ ’ 

‘‘Why?’^ asked a brawny young lumber- 
jack. 

‘‘Now never ye mind why,” retorted Foster 
sharply. “It’s enough for me to say I ain’t 
going.” 

“Eight you are, Foster, darling,” heartily 
cried Hogan. “ It ’s a good night ’s snooze we all 
need if we make the camp in decent season to- 
morrow. And remember, we’ll have the bear 
yarn first. Everyone turn in. ” 

The men knocked out their pipes, reversed 
their positions till nine pair of feet pointed to- 
wards the fire, and soon were sound asleep. 

By five o ’clock next morning Bub had replen- 
ished the fire and had induced Cub to emerge 
from his blankets and cook breakfast by the sim- 
ple expedient of kicking his feet. By the time 
the men had fed the horses the breakfast of 
crisp bacon, bread, doughnuts and coffee was 
ready. The men were in high spirits. They 
had accomplished the most difficult portion of 
the trip and were looking ahead to snug bunks 
in the new camps. Nothing further was said 
to Foster about his joining the crew but when 
the supplies had been secured to the sleds and 
Hogan was calling for the men to take the lead 
and beat down the snow with their shoes the 


106 THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

old trapper was the first to swing out into the 
road. 

‘‘Thought you wasnT going grinned Cub. 

“I’m jest going a bit of a piece,” grunted 
Foster. “Mebbe I’ll keep ye company for a 
mile, but probably not.” 

The boys exchanged wise winks and would 
have teased him further had he not come to a 
sudden halt and exclaimed, “That’s a danged 
queer place for a tree to blow down. Jest one 
tree at that.” And he pointed to a green bar- 
rier ahead. 

Hogan joined them and the moment his prac- 
tical gaze rested on the obstacle he gave a curt 
command for four of the men to advance with 
their falling-axes. These are long of helve, 
with a long, narrow bit, especially designed for 
felling trees. 

“She’s chopped down mighty recent — since 
the last snow,” said one of the men, pointing to 
the boughs which were bare of snow. 

Hogan critically examined the undercut and 
announced, “Whoever did it knows his business. 
A cleaner job I never saw. But get busy, get 
busy and chop it in two. Then hitch the bosses 
on and draw it out of the road. ’ ’ 

“There’s the reason why I won’t go to the 
camp,” mumbled Foster, pointing to the pros- 


OFF FOE CAMP CROW 


107 


trate tree. ^‘Whenever I find a woods critter 
what is so agfin my visiting his neck of the 
woods as to spend time felling trees across my 
trail I don^t propose to force my company upon 
him.’’ 

‘‘You think the axeman did this!” muttered 
Stanley. 

“ D ’ye know of anyone else what ’s fool enough 
to spend their time blocking a road up in this 
neighborhood!” dryly asked Foster. “If we 
keep on it’ll be something more serious than 
trees, I’m thinking.” 

The four men quickly lopped off the branches 
and chopped the trunk in two. Then the horses 
were hitched on and with a few powerful jerks 
had twitched the logs to one side. 

“Victory number one and the goose hangs 
high, me boys,” cheerfully cried Hogan. But 
the men did not join in his exuberance. They 
pressed forward without any hesitation, yet 
their faces were grave and sober. 

Within half a mile they came to another bar- 
rier, this time more dense as two trees, from 
opposite sides of the road had been dropped 
across the way. The Irishman lost none of his 
jovial bearing as he again sent the men for- 
ward; but Stanley noticed his frank blue eyes 
were narrowed and his lips, while uttering many 


108 


THE YOUNG LOGGEBS 


a pleasant bit of nonsense, were pressed to- 
gether in a straight line. Hogan was growing 
angry. 

As the men began clearing away the boughs 
so that the horses might yank the logs aside 
Hogan jumped forward, muttering wrathfully 
below his breath. To the boys’ astonishment he 
caught one of the choppers by the shoulder and 
by a powerful eifort hurled him from the bar- 
rier. Before anyone could demand the reason 
for this abrupt treatment a huge branch fell 
with a crash, landing on the spot where the 
chopper had stood. 

widder maker!” chorused the men. 

‘‘A ‘widow maker’ is a broken limb, hanging 
loose in the top of a tree. It’s .very dangerous 
and has killed more than one lumberman by 
falling on him,” interpreted Bub to Stan- 
ley. 

“This isn’t any accidental widder maker,” 
muttered Hogan, stepping forward and yanking 
at something. Then he turned and held up a 
long piece of rope. “See it, darlings?” he 
asked. ‘ ‘ Our unknown friend had one end made 
fast to that big limb, the other tied down in the 
boughs. The chances were that whoever went 
to chopping the boughs would fetch it down on 
his head.” 


OFF FOR CAMP CROW 109 

‘‘I’m through chopping houghs then,” mut- 
tered one of the men. 

“Sure you’re through, Pudgy Williams. 
When we strike another one I’ll do the chop- 
ping.” 

“Guess you saved my skull, Hogan,” spoke 
up the man who had been hurled aside. “I’ll 
tackle the next one with both eyes open.” 

“Oh, I ain’t no quitter,” sheepishly assured 
Williams. “Count me in.” 

“Then make quick work with those logs. 
We’ll have quite a nest of them to yard up if 
this keeps on,” cried Hogan. “Almost enough 
for a mess as it is.” 

“There’s another reason why I won’t go 
monkeying round no camp in this locality,” 
barked Foster. 

Stanley’s face was very grave. “You’re 
right, Foster,” he gently agreed. “You don’t 
have to go up there. Turn back. I’m only 
sorry I can’t get the boys to go with you. My 
case is different. My uncle would push ahead 
if he were here. I must do as I believe he 
would do. But there’s no call for you to run 
into unnecessary danger. I never expected this 
when I was teasing you to come along.” 

Foster’s cheeks puffed out and his face 
grew very red beneath his straggling beard. 


110 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


For several moments lie was unable to speak 
from red-hot indignation. Then seizing the 
amazed Stanley by both shoulders he proceeded 
to give him a good shaking. 

‘‘What^s thatr^ he finally managed to ex- 
plode. ^‘Me turn back! Me quit and leave a 
babe to follow a trail alone. If ye ever mutter 
a word of that kind agfin I’ll larrup ye, no mat- 
ter if ye was President Thaxter’s newy a mil- 
lion times over. Hark to that, young man, and 
don’t ye forgit it.” 


CHAPTEE VII 


TRACKS m THE SNOW 

Long before the noon hour the crew was enter- 
ing upon the last of the journey. Foster and 
the boys kept well in the lead, searching the 
road and overhanging tops for possible dan- 
gers. Since their experience with the widow 
maker the boys began to take the gray axe- 
man seriously. Any man who would violate the 
law of the trail so far as to place a fellow woods- 
man ^s life in jeopardy must be a dangerous 
character. 

Bub tried to recall some of the lawless men 
who might be wanted by the authorities, as he 
was inclined to attribute the hidden assaults 
upon some such ne ^er-do-well. But this line of 
reasoning did not appeal to the others as being 
logical. If a man wished to escape espionage 
why should he persist in remaining in that par- 
ticular locality when he had the entire northern 
portion of the State to hide in? Or why, if he 
desired seclusion, did he not cross the line into 
Canada? From any height the forest could be 
111 


112 


TI-IE YOUNG LOGGEES 


seen stretching away unbroken, affording innum- 
erable places of refuge for the bunted. 

‘‘This critter seems tied up to this region,’’ 
grumbled Foster, bis sharp old eyes incessantly 
scrutinizing every bush as they advanced. 
‘^It’s a queer case.” 

Only once did they find the road blockaded, 
and without waiting for the swampers to come 
up Stanley assailed it with his axe. 

Finally observing that the others were hold- 
ing back he paused and turned about. The 
three were watching him in deep amusement. 

‘‘What’s the matter?” he asked. “Haven’t 
we got to clear this truck out of the way?” 

“It’s got to be snaked aside but no wood- 
pecker can do it,” chuckled Foster. Stanley 
reddened and desisted from further efforts. A 
“woodpecker” in the slang of the lumbering 
regions means a poor chopper. 

To add to his humiliation a filer, Pierre 
Dusette, from one of the back French settle- 
ments, now came up, axe in hand, and taking 
in the situation, halted before the barrier and 
gave a pantomime of being deeply impressed 
by the havoc worked by Stanley’s impractical 
efforts. 

“Ba golly!” he cried, elevating his brows in 
mock admiration. “Wan beeg man mak’ her 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


113 


axe fly lak’ wan beeg windmill. M’sieu Mal- 
colm, I tak’ de chapeau off to you.’’ 

‘‘Oh, quit it, Pierre,” growled Stanley. “If 
you know so much about it, get busy.” 

The Frenchman, grinning broadly, ap- 
proached the tree and skilfully cleared the limbs 
and had cut it in two by the time Hogan and 
the others arrived. 

‘ ‘ So our friend is still putting himself out to 
make us welcome, my dears,” cried the Irish- 
man, his jaws setting. “I hope the poor man 
won’t bother to make lemonade or bake a cake in 
honor of our coming. ’ ’ 

“I ban goin’ to keeck heem rat out from un- 
der his feet,” said Pierre, as he paused to wipe 
his wet forehead. “Den he pick up his foot in 
her hand an’ mak’ her skiddoo. Oui.” 

From then on the road was unobstructed and 
the party emerged from the woods into the two- 
sled road, leading by the camps back to where 
the logs were yarded on the slopes of Mt. Crow, 
without further incidents. 

The boys set up a cheer as they sighted the 
bunk-house and rushed on ahead to start fires in 
it and in the cook’s camp. The men were 
strangely silent as they drove the horses to the 
hovel. They seemed depressed by the atmos- 
phere of the place, although the environment 


114 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


was typical of the average lumber camp. Sev- 
enty-foot spruce towered above the long squat 
log bouses, shutting out much of the sunlight 
and blue sky. On one side rose the heavily 
wooded sides of Mt. Crow, the growth showing 
black under the mid-day sun. With the excep- 
tion of some Canada jays, better known as 
^‘moose-birds^’ and “carnj) robbers,” there was 
no animate life to relieve the silence. 

Foster also felt the spell, although he sought 
to conceal the fact when with the boys. They, 
however, refused to he disturbed by the evil rep- 
utation of the place and found the work of cut- 
ting boughs for the bunks and aiding Cub in 
the kitchen a pleasing relaxation from snow- 
shoeing. 

When Hogan stamped into the bunk-house 
Stanley instantly detected traces of concern on 
his usually merry face and bluntly demanded an 
explanation. “It’s nothing, darling,” easily 
replied the Irishman. “Only the harness has 
been cut in bits so it’ll be something of a job to 
fix them up for the bosses. Barring that every- 
thing is as well as could be expected, as 
my uncle said when he fell into the cis- 
tern. ’ ’ 

“More efforts to keep us out,” grimly said 
Stanley, 


TEACKS IN THE SNOW 


115 


‘H’ve been in more hospitable places,’’ 
glumly assured Foster. 

Stanley and Bub were immediately curious to 
inspect the camp in detail. The scaler’s small 
house appealed to them as being very cosy, and, 
had their crew been larger, they would have 
selected it for their home. But as there were 
but five men in the party, besides themselves 
and Foster, they feared the choppers would 
think they were ^‘putting on airs,” as Bub ex- 
pressed it. All of the houses were in good con- 
dition, neither man nor the elements having 
worked any damage. The harness had been 
slashed with a sharp knife, but Pudgy Williams 
insisted whoever had done the mischief knew 
very little about a harness, therefore had had 
no experience with horses. He pointed out 
how a man could ruin a harness by a few judici- 
ous cuts; whereas the wreckage before them 
revealed an indiscriminate slashing, much of 
which could be easily repaired. 

‘‘She ban wan poor ban’ wit de harness,” 
gravely agreed Pierre. “Ba golly, w’en I fin’ 
her I mak’ heem sick of dat job. I’d rather 
fin’ ten dollar den have dis happen.” 

Cub’s horn now called them to dinner and 
all made a rush for the cook’s camp. Equipped 
with a white apron and a square paper cap. 


116 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


made out of a bag, Cub looked the cook, and a 
single glance at the steaming table was suffi- 
cient to convince the most skeptical. Stanley 
and Bub seated themselves with Hogan and 
Foster and, while the others busied themselves 
with their victuals, the four held a little coun- 
cil of war. Hogan, while outwardly uncon- 
cerned, was anxious to safeguard the interests 
of the company. He knew that Abner was re- 
lying largely on him to see the work was prop- 
erly accomplished. The slashing of the harness 
suggested new dangers to him. 

‘‘We must have a couple of the men sleep 
in the hovel,’’ he insisted, “and guard the nags 
and the harness. Then someone ought to sleep 
in this camp, to keep an eye on the supplies. I 
don’t know whether it’s safe to leave the meat 
and other stuff in the dingle or not. ’ ’ 

“The first thing to be done — and I’ll do it — 
is to make a circuit of this camp and see if a 
trail can be found,” spoke up Foster. “My 
idee of curing trouble is to git at the root of 
it. This gray axeman is pestiferous. That’s 
enough reason for squelching him. I suggest 
ye put the men to work and leave me to do some 
scouting.” 

“Bully for Foster,” endorsed Stanley. 
“But Bub and I believe that so long as the 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


117 


weather holds fair we won’t be disturbed. 
Everything seems to happen, you’ll remember, 
during a storm, or during a high wind. If 
the weather holds clear Mister Axeman will 
keep away, knowing we can pick up his trail. 
He’ll find it a lot harder to snoop round here 
without being caught than he would in the fall 
before the snow came.” 

‘‘We’re going to have settled weather,” as- 
sured Foster gravely. “But inside of six hours 
them clouds is going to spit a little snow; Not 
enough to amount to much, but enough to blot 
out shoe-tracks.” 

“Can we go with you on your first scout T’ 
meekly asked Bub. 

“No, sir-ee!” warmly refused Foster. 
‘ ‘ Think I want a parcel of younkers tagging at 
my heels. Guess I’ll have my work cut out 
without playing nurse.” 

Bub winked at Stanley and the latter nodded 
in assent. After dinner Hogan set the men to 
work hauling out the sleds while he walked down 
to the frozen stream to decide on a landing. 
He selected one near the ledge, where a quan- 
tity of logs already were yarded. This would 
be “hot yarding,” meaning that while one team 
was dumping the logs from the cant another 
would be hauling or sluicing them to the land- 


118 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ing. If one team hauled the logs direct from 
the stump to the landing he would have styled 
it, ^ dragging in.’’ 

Returning to the camp he found Dusette busy 
filing the cross-cut saws in a wooden- jawed vise 
in the blacksmith’s shop. Others were putting 
a finishing edge on their axes, for although not 
supposed to do more than haul out the fallen 
timber to the landing they knew both saw and 
axe would he called into use each day. 

Foster, taking his long rifle, struck off to the 
north when Hogan returned, promising he 
would be back for supper. He proposed to 
make a circuit of the camp, he said, moving from 
the north to the west. He had barely passed 
from sight than Bub and Stanley slipped on 
their shoes and took up his trail. Moving si- 
lently they held to his tracks until they came to 
the point where he turned to the west, where- 
upon they veered to the east, planning to meet 
him south of the camp, on the Squawtooth road 
if possible, thus saving him from making more 
than half the long trip he had planned. 

Sweping due east for more than a mile Bub 
took the lead in turning south. The snow re- 
vealed no tell-tale signs. Only the delicate 
brush-like marks of the tiny wood-mouse, the 
stake-holes left by some fox, or the blundering 


TEACKS IN THE SNOW 


119 


imprints of a browsing moose met their keen 
gaze. Nor were they surprised. The fact that 
Foster had turned first to the west taught them 
the old trapper had high hopes of striking a 
trail in that quarter. 

‘‘And that’s sound reasoning,” declared Bub. 

‘ ‘ It was to the west that we heard the chopping 
at midnight. Whoever the axeman may be he 
keeps in hiding up north or over in the west 
when not poaching on the company’s premises. 
He must have several hiding-places to which he 
can scoot when the camp gets too hot for him. * 
We shall find nothing.” 

Nor did they, except that their leg-muscles 
were very weary by the time Bub gave the word 
to strike west, passing south of the camp. An 
hour’s tramping brought them into the road 
just as the underbrush crackled ahead and the 
old trapper plunged into the road above. He 
was much surprised to behold them and sternly 
ordered them back to the camp. 

“That’s where we’re bound for,” said Bub 
pleasantly. “We came down to keep you com- 
pany. ’ ’ 

“But I’ve got a bit more cruising to do,” re- 
gretfully informed the trapper. “That scout 
took longer ’n I expected and I must finish my 
circle afore I turn in.” He gazed gloomily at 


120 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


the western sun and contrasted the long jaunt 
ahead of him and the cosy quarters awaiting 
him at camp. ‘‘All I ask is that ye tell Cub that 
I’m hankering most keen for some of his biscuit. 
I’ll keep thinking of ’em to nerve me on.” 

The boys then told him what they had done, 
and although he scolded them soundly for mak- 
ing the cruise he was greatly relieved to learn 
his day’s work was over. It was deep dusk by 
the time they reached the camp and found 
Hogan anxious for their return. 

Cub had anticipated them by cooking several 
large tins of light biscuit and as a further tri- 
umph unearthed a large can of maple-syrup, 
which Abner had sent to the camp in early win- 
ter as personal property. This was opened and 
poured out in tin basins for the benefit of all. 

But this was not the only branch of industry 
Cub had indulged in. Finding himself alone 
and dwelling much on the mysterious axeman 
his mischievous mind had hit upon a scheme to 
enliven the evening while the men were at the 
table. It required a long piece of rope and 
some deft work with his pocket-knife and bits 
of charcoal. The result pleased him immensely 
and he had much difficulty in composing his 
features as the men filed noisily in and seated 
themselves at the table. 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


121 


‘‘Ba golly! I mak’ wan beeg hole in dat 
syrup/’ joyously grunted the Frenchman, help- 
ing himself lavishly. . eat her till I ban filled 
up over de collarre — Sapre ! He gray axeman ! 
Oh-o-o!” The last was voiced in a shrill 
scream, and wheeling to follow the excited 
Frenchman’s trembling finger the boys beheld a 
fearful thing glaring in at the windows. It was 
neither beast nor human, and yet it was both. 
Stanley and Bub felt the roots of their hair 
tighten as they stared, spellbound, at the hide- 
ous thing. The eyes glowed in a face that was 
three times the size of any human face, while 
bunches of hair sprouted in a most amazing 
fashion from the cheeks. Hair, also-, in long 
ragged locks, fell over the low forehead, while 
the mouth was abnormal in width. For several 
seconds the loggers gazed stupidly at it, then 
it slowly sank from sight. The Frenchman was 
shaking nervously and moaning below his 
breath. 

But at that particular second Foster’s as- 
tounded gaze happen to light on Cub. That 
young man instead of being deeply perturbed, 
as would have been natural, was struggling with 
might and main to suppress an outburst of 
laughter. With an angry snort Foster jumped 
from the table and gained the boy’s side. Seiz- 


122 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ing the boy’s closed hand he tore it open and 
discovered the end of a rope. This passed 
through a chink in the wall. 

‘‘If ye’ll jest kindly give me yer attention I’ll 
show ye how that thing-a-may-jig is worked,” 
drawled Foster. “Our young friend, not hav- 
ing enough to do, has spent his time making a 
ha’nt out of a board and some hay. I should 
say he’d wet the ends of some matches and 
rubbed ’em on for eyes what shine some fierce- 
like. Now ye don’t see it, now I pull the string 
and ye do. ’ ’ 

As he finished he tugged on the rope and the 
fearful face danced up at the window. Relieved 
to find it was only a joke the men laughed 
loudly, but Pierre, still shaken from his scare, 
wrathfully cried, “Geeve him de codfeesh! 
Mak’ she mart. I ban smack her wan beeg 
spank wit’ de codfeesh!” 

Cub paled. He had seen the codfish applied 
as a curative and knew it was unpleasant. It 
meant he would be stretched face down on a 
barrel while the irate Frenchman spanked him 
most soundly with the fish. 

Although indignant that he should play on 
the men’s fears by any such pranks Stanley had 
no desire to see his friend subjected to physical 
punishment, and he suggested, “Let’s have a 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


123 


different penalty. We all like pie. There’s 
plenty of canned stuff to make them out of. I 
vote that the cook furnish us with a pie apiece 
for the next three dinners instead of one measly 
little piece per man. ’ ’ 

“That’s the ticket, darling,” enthusiastically 
endorsed Hogan. “Let the little dear use his 
time in cooking. A pie apiece gits my vote. ’ ’ 

Pierre, grumbling, assented to this sentence, 
provided the pies were not slighted in the mak- 
ing. Cub, while relieved to escape the codfish, 
sorely regretted his joke as it entailed much ex- 
tra labor for him. 

After supper Hogan announced he should 
sleep in the blacksmith’s shop next to the horse- 
hovel and asked for someone to keep him com- 
pany. Pudgy Williams, on learning they could 
have a fire and keep snug and warm, readily vol- 
unteered. 

“And Cub must sleep here in the cook camp,” 
announced Stanley, kicking Bub’s foot under 
the table. 

“You fellows going to keep me company?” 
humbly asked Cub. 

“Not to-night,” said Stanley. “We’ll sleep 
in the bunk-house. To-morrow night we may 
move in here. We’re too tired to shift our 
traps over to-night.” 


124 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Ye don’t mind staying alone do yeT’ quietly 
asked Foster. “A brave young lad, who laughs 
at things he don’t understand and make a joke 
of ’em hadn’t oughter be afraid of sleeping 
alone in this nice, warm place.” 

“If he gits scared he can skin through the 
dingle and be with his loving friends,” quizzed 
Hogan. 

Cub straightened and sternly announced, “I 
am not afraid of anything. You people who 
allow your imagination to run away with your 
reason may get nervous. I never do. I enjoy 
good company, but sleeping alone won’t bother 
me a bit.” 

While this bold assertion impressed the men 
as being a very manly and brave statement, the 
boys suspected that beneath his show of uncon- 
cern Cub would prefer a companion. As there 
was much to do on the morrow all hands voted 
to turn in early, and after a brief bit of pipe- 
smoking among the loggers every man repaired 
to his bunk. 

“Now what’s the game?” whispered Bub 
as he and Stanley took one of the lower 
bunks. 

“It’s this,” replied Stanley. “Cub Blaine is 
getting too fresh. He ought not to have 
startled the men as he did. He meant all right, 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


125 


but this crew is high-strung. They don’t know 
what to expect. You’ll notice they’re mighty 
solemn, except when eating. I’m in fear we’ll 
have some trouble in snaking the stuff out. 
One thing is sure, they won’t do a tap once it 
gets dark. And Cub has made it harder for 
us by his foolishness.” 

^‘1 was growing mighty cold along my spine,” 
candidly confessed Bub. ‘‘If the thing had 
tapped on the window I’d have let out a yell 
you could have heard on Hood Mountain. ’ ’ 

“Same here,” admitted Stanley. “So I’ve 
decided the young man ought to be taught a 
lesson. He’s alone and no one but him will 
suffer any shock.” 

“I’m ready,” gleefully assented Bub. 
‘ ‘ What shall we do f ” 

“One of us will rig up to look like a goblin 
and peep in the window. The other one will 
tap on the door or roof till Cub wakes up. Then 
we ’ll see how he likes taking his own medicine. ’ ’ 

This struck Bub as being a suitable punish- 
ment for their comrade and sliding from their 
bunk they cast about for something to masquer- 
ade in. They would have preferred a sheet but 
there was none in the camp. The next best 
thing. Bub decided, was a large paper bag, 
which could be slipped over the head after eye- 


126 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


holes and a mouth had been cut in it. A quan- 
tity of hay-rope in the corner furnished the hair 
and Stanley insisted that he should wear the 
disguise. With many chuckles Bub snipped 
holes in the bag and fastened the rope in long 
straggling locks on either side of his face. 
Then taking a dead pine knot from the hearth 
he used the charred end in completing the 
grotesque appearance of the mask. 

‘‘Thatdl do nicely,’’ he whispered as he 
viewed his friend in the ruddy firelight. 
only hope he’s left the lamp burning. If he 
hasn’t you’ll have to carry a torch. Through 
the window the etfect will be fine.” 

The men snored peacefully on, undisturbed 
by the boys’ maneuvering. After deciding the 
bag was complete they gently stole out the door 
and were highly pleased to observe a fan of 
light radiating through the small window. Cub 
had left a lamp burning in spite of his heroic 
announcement he was not afraid. 

It required some patience to adjust the mask 
and after it was in place Bub took Stanley’s 
hand to lead him around the camp. By making 
this detour he could leave him in position at 
the window, without passing by it. It would 
also afford him a vantage point where he could 
arouse the sleeper. 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


127 


‘‘What if he yells and wakes up the men!’’ 
whispered Stanley, who had not thought of this 
contingency. 

“They’re sleeping mighty hard,” said Bub. 
“If he does arouse them they won’t mind, once 
they learn the cause. Now we’re at the corner. 
Take a few steps more and you’ll turn in before 
the window. I’ll stay here and bang on the logs 
till he wakes up. ’ ’ 

He had hardly finished the sentence before 
Cub startled them both by crying out loudly, his 
tone betraying great emotion. 

“Gee! what’s up! He scared me,” gasped 
Stanley. 

‘ ‘ Quick ! Get to the window. He ’s heard us. 
Poke your face up where he can get the full ef- 
fect. We’ll teach him a lesson.” 

But when Stanley gained the small window 
and peered in he was nonplussed at beholding 
Cub sitting on the edge of his bunk, a butcher- 
knife in hand, and glaring, not at the window, 
but at the door. 

“Come on. Bub!” he cried, snatching off his 
mask and darting for the door that opened into 
the dingle. “Something got ahead of us.” 

Bub was astounded. He had not looked 
through the window and Stanley’s words 
aroused the deepest fears in his heart. He in- 


128 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


terpreted his friend hurried declaration to 
mean something was in the camp. With con- 
vulsive springs he gained Stanley’s heels and 
was at his side when he reached the door. The 
door was open. 

Cub still sat on the edge of his bunk, holding 
the knife and glaring at the darkness of the 
dingle. When his two friends darted into the 
room, he half rose, his mouth opening to emit 
another cry. 

^‘Keep quiet!” commanded Stanley, gazing 
quickly about. ‘ ^ What ’s the matter with you ? ’ ’ 

Sinking weakly back onto the bunk Cub fal- 
tered, ‘Ht’s you, eh? I saw it.” 

‘ ‘ Saw what ? ’ ’ nervously asked Bub, glancing 
at the door. 

‘ ‘ I don ’t know, ’ ’ slowly returned Cub. ‘ ‘ The 
first thing I do know is that it stood in the room 
near the door.” 

‘‘But what was it?” persisted Stanley. 

Cub shook his head despondently. “I can’t 
describe it,” he mumbled. “It was tall and 
gray. It looked like a man, but the face was 
covered with long hair, like the one I saw look- 
ing in at the bunk-house window. It didn’t 
seem to move, it just stood and looked at me. 
Then it vanished. ’ ’ 

“Hold on,” expostulated Bub. “Nothing 


TEACKS IN THE SNOW 


129 


vanishes these days — that is, nothing that walks 
on legs. Did you see it take a backward 
stepT’ 

‘‘No; first it was there, then it was gone.’’ 

“It vanished when you let out the yell?” 
queried Stanley. 

“Yes. I opened my mouth as wide as I could 
and closed my eyes — ” 

“And that’s why you didn’t see it go out,” 
broke in Stanley. 

“Did it speak?” asked Bub. 

“Never made a sound,” choked Cub. 
“That’s what shook my nerves. It just stood 
and stared at me.” 

Stanley began to smile. It was all plain to 
him. Cub had retired with his mind filled with 
thoughts of the axeman. He had seen in his 
dreams the face he claimed to have seen on their 
first evening at Camp Crow. He had been the 
victim of a nightmare. 

“He saw nothing. Bub,” quietly said Stanley. 
“He dreamed he saw someone come in. Just 
his imagination.” 

“But we found the door open,” reminded 
Bub dubiously. 

“It wasn’t locked. The wind blew it open,” 
promptly said Stanley. 

“There’s no lock on it,” shivered Cub. “I 


130 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


was ashamed to fasten it with a bar. But I did 
place a stool against it. It didnT blow open.’’ 

But Stanley was firm in his belief and re- 
plied, ^‘It’s easy to get at the truth of the mat- 
ter. It’s spitting snow, but if anyone came in 
that door there’ll be some tracks. The snow 
hasn’t had time to cover them.” 

^ ^ But the floor is wet where the thing stood, ’ ’ 
cried Cub. 

^‘That’s snow we brought in,” said Stanley. 

Bub by this time had taken the lamp and was 
examining the ground under the dingle. Fi- 
nally he called out to his wrangling companions, 
‘ ‘ Step here a minute. Here are tracks. ’ ’ 

With a sharp exclamation of surprise and in- 
credulity Stanley gained his side. The softly 
falling snow was trying to fill some fresh tracks, 
a double line of them, extending from the dingle 
to the forest. And he and Bub had passed 
around the camp in the other direction. A 
closer examination revealed their tracks turn- 
ing sharply to the right from the door of the 
bunk-room. 

These were left by a tall man, who was in 
a hurry,” murmured Bub, who had been meas- 
uring the distance between the imprints. 

‘^Probably one of the fellows from the black- 
smith shop,” suggested Stanley. 


TRACKS IN THE SNOW 


131 


‘‘No; they make directly to the forest. But 
wedl go down to the hovel and see.’’ 

A short run brought them near the blacksmith 
shop, where Bub crouched and lighted a match. 
During the fraction of a minute he managed to 
keep it lighted he and his companions keenly 
scrutinized the snow before the door. It con- 
tained no tracks. 


CHAPTER Vm 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 

When Stanley woke up next morning it was 
to find the men hurrying out to breakfast. Bub 
was not yet awake and to arouse him Stanley 
thumped with his elbow several times, remark- 
ing, ‘‘What are you crowding me for? You’ve 
got nearly all the bunk to yourself.” 

“Stop flattening me up against the parti- 
tion,” sleepily replied Bub. “Hi, quit your 
kicking. ’ ’ 

This amused Stanley as he had not kicked and 
as he already had given up the greater part of 
the bough mattress. He was accordingly aston- 
ished when a drowsy voice, one speaking in a 
guttural tone, complained, “Young Fox kick 
like um moose. Young Chief arm very sharp.” 

“Great Scott!” cried Stanley, rising on his 
elbow and trying to penetrate the morning dusk. 
“If it isn’t Noisy Charlie ! So that’s why I was 
so crowded, eh?” 

“Say, he crawled in between us in the night,” 

132 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 133 

cried Bub. ‘‘IVe been sleeping on a place no 
wider ’n the edge of a shingle.” 

‘^Ugh!” grunted the Indian, drawing his 
blankets over his head and trying to ignore 
them. ‘‘Injun want sleep bad like bear. Stop 
noise.” 

“Funny how he could get into our bunk and 
never wake us up,” admired Bub, sliding to 
the floor and hunting for his clothes. 

“We’d better keep mum about last night,” 
advised Stanley. “We’ll tell Foster and 
Hogan — ” 

“Boy better tell Injun,” broke in Charlie’s 
voice, and from the tone his friends knew he was 
very much awake. 

Stanley at once complied, explaining fully all 
that had happened since they parted company 
with him down on the Squawtooth. Both boys 
now understood why he had left them. He had 
desired to cruise on ahead and swiftly recon- 
noiter the country surrounding Mt. Crow. Re- 
membering his aversion to the place they could 
appreciate the devotion that had urged him to 
do it. After he had heard them through he 
informed, “Injun find queer trail, one, two, 
three mile north of camp. Follow um down 
here. Lose it when snow come. Git here and 
find um fat boy sleeping with lamp burning. 


134 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Light no good for sleep. Come in here, make 
boys give room. Find bunk very warm.’’ 

‘‘Glad we had it warm for you,” dryly said 
Stanley. “Now let’s see if Cub has any break- 
fast for us.” 

He had and a right good one. All the others 
had eaten, and Cub indignantly warned them 
that it was no hotel he was keeping and 
that they must be in the kitchen by five-thirty 
at the latest thereafter or cook their own 
food. 

Stanley meekly agreed and then warned him 
to say nothing about their escapade to anyone 
except Hogan and Foster. Leaving him to plan 
the dinner they invited Charlie to accompany 
them to the horse hovel. There they found 
Foster and Hogan, and, drawing them aside, 
related last night’s adventure. Foster became 
very serious as he listened, but Hogan was 
frankly angry. 

“It won’t happen again till we have stormy 
weather,” soothed Stanley. “Then we’ll set a 
trap and catch the gentleman. Tell the men 
nothing and get them to work as fast as possible. 
I don’t suppose you’ll take the horses out to- 
day.” 

“Hardly,” smiled Hogan. “There’s roads 
to be dug out and yards to be located and a 


A PECULIAE TEAIL 135 

dozen and one things to be done before we can 
use the nags/’ 

We ’ll do our part,” promptly reminded 
Bub. ‘^This is the time we work. Cub is do- 
ing his share. Name our job.” 

‘‘Give ’em something hard and rough,” 
urged Foster. “Me and Charlie will do a little 
cruising, but put the younkers on to something 
hard.” 

Hogan smiled whimsically, well knowing the 
old trapper’s affection for the boys. “They be 
very spry,” he said; “suppose they go hunting 
for the different yards. I’ve got to get the 
men busy on the two-sled road as it’s got to be 
iced. Then we must take the slopes and slow 
’em up with hay. There’s several places on 
the cant that a boss couldn’t negotiate ’less the 
sleds are held back by hay. And up at the top 
of the cant, where there’s a middling big yard, 
we’ve got to rig a snub-line. I have it! You 
boys cruise up to that cant and make ready to 
use the snub-line.” 

This task appealed to the boys, and after 
securing a large coil of three-inch hawser and 
loading it on a home-made toboggan they put on 
their shoes and began breasting the stiff slopes 
of Mt. Crow. They did not need to be told 
where to look for the incline, as the signs left 


136 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


by the loggers in December constituted a suffi- 
cient guide. Unhesitatingly Bub led the way, 
explaining over his shoulder the importance of 
their task. 

‘^For believe me, my son, if we donT do it just 
right it may mean a dead horse or two, or a dead 
logger. lUs in using the snub-line that the 
lumberjack flirts with death. Yarding timber’s 
a joke, as the haul to a yard is seldom more’n 
half a mile and the swampers pick a route that 
twists and turns and dodges the hard places. 
But when you come to hauling to a landing 
you’ve got a different proposition. You’ll sel- 
dom find a landing less ’n a mile from the yards 
and sometimes the distance is more ’n six miles. 
And the road must go up and down hill, across 
bogs and swamps, down steep places, where the 
logs tower way above the horses’ heads, when, 
if anything breaks, either rope or chain, or 
something slips too much, it’s good-by to the 
team and the teamster.” 

^H’ve heard Abner say some of the worst ac- 
cidents happen on the inclines where the snub- 
line is used,” interrupted Stanley. 

‘‘We must make sure none happens on this 
incline,” earnestly continued Bab. “Take it 
on the level and Hogan will water, or ice, the 
roads. No matter how deep the mow is, it^s 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 


137 


ilever slippery enough to suit a logger. Even 
if it^s packed as smooth as a floor he won’t he 
satisfied. He wants that road just a glare piece 
of ice with the horses shod sharp. Often we 
have a January thaw and a rain storm, followed 
by clearing weather, with a cold northwest wind 
to do the freezing. Then nature does the icing 
for us. But we haven ’t had any rain and Hogan 
will get the sprinkler sleds out to-day. You 
saw them in the blacksmith shop, the two with 
the runners turned up at each end, hitched to- 
gether by cross-chains, each having a pole so 
it can be hauled in either direction without be- 
ing turned around. The sprinkler is the large 
wooden tank outside the shop. Hogan will 
mount that on the sleds and fill it at the stream. 
Then after the sleds have been rigged with a 
scraper he’ll break out the two-sled road, scrap- 
ing the surface snow off till he gets down to a 
hard, firm surface. Then he’ll turn the sprink- 
ler loose and after it freezes it’ll be quite de- 
cent skating. The sprinkling will be done at 
night and by morning he’ll have a ribbon of ice 
for the loads to pass over. With that kind of a 
road two horses will find it easy work to draw 
a dozen of the biggest logs at a sharp clip. 

‘‘But when you come to a grade it’s a differ- 
ent proposition. No logger wants ice on a 


138 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


pitch. Hogan will reverse his tactics in those 
spots. HeT have the men shovel off the snow 
to the bare earth. If he canT get down that 
deep he’ll have hay and boughs thrown on, so’s 
to act as a brake on the sled runners. In ad- 
dition to that he’ll use a snub-line. When he 
finds a curve on a pitch he orders the men to 
bank it as nigh as possible, so a sled can’t slew 
in taking the curve. If it slews it means the 
load will be upset, the chains broken, and possi- 
bly some damage to the team or driver. Here’s 
a place where we’ll begin to operate.” 

Bub removed the hawser and on measuring 
it pronounced it to be twice the length of the 
pitch, or slope. At the top of the incline he 
picked out a large tree, and assailed it with his 
axe, with Stanley helping to the best of his abil- 
ity. After the tree had been felled Bub ex- 
plained that the stump, four feet in height, must 
be stripped of bark to within a foot of the top, 
leaving the bared part as smooth as possible. 

^Ht’s to wind the hawser around,” he con- 
tinued. ‘‘When the teamster strikes this bit of 
down-grade he’ll stop his team and secure one 
end of the hawser. He’ll pass it completely 
round his load, making two half -hitches. Then 
when the strain comes on the line the hitches 
slip and the noose draws tight about the load. 


A PECULIAE TRAIL 


139 


Then he’ll pass the hawser round the stump 
three or four times and shove the coil close to 
the bottom of the stump. That done he gives 
his horses the word, gets on top of the load, and 
goes down the hill. 

‘‘You see, the friction of the coils round the 
stump holds the load back from the horses, and 
the weight of the rope in the coil is enough to 
keep it from paying off the stump too fast. 
The driver always stands upright on his load 
so’s he can guide his team to the last second if 
anything breaks. Then again he can more 
quickly feel the line flip when a strand breaks 
than if he was sitting down. Some teamsters 
seem to have a sixth sense. Every movement 
of the sled, every tug on the line, tells them 
something. And believe me, the horses don’t 
do any sleeping when going down ahead of 
twelve huge logs. If anything happens the 
driver has a chance to jump, but the poor ani- 
mals stand no show whatever. But the driver 
doesn’t jump when a snub-line breaks. He’s 
game; that’s why he’s hired for the job. The 
minute the line breaks he lets out a yell and 
snaps his whip over the horses. They know 
what’s up in a second. They know they’ve got 
to race with death till they strike a level stretch. 
And the instant the driver gives the signal they 


140 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


leap into their collars and dash down the hill, 
using every ounce of strength to keep ahead of 
the loaded sled. 

‘‘They Ve simply got to keep going and keep 
their feet. If one slips, or if a sled breaks it ^s 
all over for the horses. The driver stands a 
good chance of escaping if he jumps, as he can 
leap clear of the load and land in the deep snow. 
His great danger is when a chain breaks when 
he’s going down grade. The second it snaps 
the great sticks begin shooting out on to the 
horses, nailing the teamster before he can get 
clear. ’ ’ 

“Someone will have to fix this rope every 
time it’s used,” remarked Stanley. 

“Oh, no,” corrected Bub. “That’s why the 
teamsters like this kind of a snub. When the 
teamster gets to the bottom of the pitch he’ll 
cast it off. The other end is round this stump. 
The next load that comes along will take the 
hitches round the load and as the line pays out 
down hill the other half will be traveling up 
hill. After it’s been used for some time it’ll be 
smooth as a piece of glass. Then the teamster 
will keep his eye on it while it feeds by him up 
the hill. Or it may catch on a splinter in the 
stump. That means a strand or two will be 
severed. The instant a strand is cut it’ll un- 


A PECULIAE TRAIL 


141 


twist in no time. That throws the strain on the 
other strands and another snaps. Before 
you can hardly realize it the hawser is done 
for and the horses are galloping for their 
lives.’’ 

The boys made no attempt to shovel away 
the snow, leaving that task for the men when 
they brought up the hay to sprinkle over the 
pitch. Leaving the hawser coiled about the 
stump they continued up the slope, finding an- 
other incline where a snub-line would be used. 
Again they felled a tree and smoothed the 
stump, and Stanley began to believe he had 
learned all Bub had to teach about pitches and 
snub-lines. 

He was soon to be disabused. They were now 
nearing the crest of the cant and the last yard. 
As they toiled towards this Stanley was pleased 
to note it was a large one, containing many 
huge logs. 

“Now to chop down a tree and measure up 
how much hawser Hogan will need to send up,” 
observed Stanley. 

Bub grinned and began working on a fair 
sized spruce. After felling the tree he turned 
with a quizzical smile to his comrade, and asked, 
‘ ‘ How much line will we need? ’ ’ 

Stanley scratched his head and stared down 


142 


THE YOUNH LOGGEES 


the long, steep incline till a turn in the road cut 
otl his view. ‘‘Whew!^^ he muttered, ^Gtdl 
take an awfully long line, wonT it? There ^s 
got to be enough to reach up and down, from 
top to bottom. Theydl have to splice two lines 
together. ^ ’ 

corrected Bub, ‘‘one length must do. 
But instead of letting the hawser work itself 
itdl take two men to feed it out. The teamsters 
like the other way the better, as it saves them 
the bother of bringing the line back up the hill 
every time a load goes down.’’ 

“Therefore this is the safer way, although 
they don’t like it as well,” quickly cut in Stan- 
ley. “That’s like loggers; they’d rather take 
a chance — ” 

“Softly, my son,” smiled Bub. “The first 
way doesn’t seem as safe as this, the 
man-managed way, yet this is the most 
dangerous way of all. But it simply has 
to be. The grade is too long and steep 
and winding to permit of the rope trav- 
eling up and down. In this case the big 
line will be made fast to the load as on the 
grades below here. Two or three turns will be 
taken around the stump, just as in the other 
method. The rest of the hawser will be neatly 
coiled some ten or twelve feet away. Two men 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 


143 


will take hold of the slack when the teamster 
starts his team. As the load descends theydl 
pay it out slowly and evenly. They must keep 
the hawser taut and working off the stump as 
smoothly as possible. Theydl wear mittens 
with thick leather palms. That allows them to 
grip the line without having their hands burned 
or torn as the ropes feed through. Nearby 
they 11 have a cantdog and if the line begins to 
get away from them they have a trick of using 
the cantdog as a lever. They 11 throw the line 
harder against the stump, thus checking it. Of 
course the more they increase the friction 
around the stump the slower the line feeds 
out.’’ 

‘‘Then I don’t see why that isn’t safer than 
the first way,” said Stanley. 

“But you’ve got a longer pitch. It has turns 
and twists,” explained Bub. “The longer the 
pitch the longer the time the team is in danger. 
The men may figure everything is going smooth, 
the line paying out as soft as a kitty’s ear. 
Then it begins to jump, getting from three to 
fifteen inches slack each jerk. Then something 
disagreeable is sure to happen for the teamster 
and his horses unless the men can use the cant- 
dog successfully in the fraction of a second. 
Every jerk telegraphs to the teamster that 


144 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


danger threatening. It also sets the entire 
length of the hawser vibrating and snapping. 
This alone puts a great strain on the line and if 
it has a weak spot it^s likely to snap. If it 
doesnT break it may get the best of the men. 
And once it runs away from them nothing can 
stop it. They may hold on till their mittens 
smoke ; they may try their best to check it with 
the cantdog, but if it gets fairly started they’ve 
got to drop it or lose a hand. Then it’s up to 
the teamster and the nags to get from under. 
I’ve seen a driver stick to his load, swaying 
and bouncing, and fetch them clear and un- 
harmed after a quarter of a mile dash down a 
hill. But when they stopped they knew they’d 
had a race. ’ ’ 

‘‘It took sand,” commented Stanley. 

“Oh, a teamster will stick to his team as 
long as he stands a ghost of a show,” assured 
Bub. “It’s like a sailor trying to save a ship, 
like a captain going down with his vessel. 
Whether on a hill or when the horses break 
through into the lake the driver never quits so 
long as there ’s the slightest show of saving his 
animals. He doesn’t think it possible to do any 
different. It’s a part of his day’s work. His 
pride keeps him up. When a man gets the name 
of losing his team operators are shy of hiring 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 


145 


him. lUs a mighty hard job to replace your 
horses in the middle of winter.^’ 

Descending the slope the boys soon reached 
the level stretch surrounding the camp and as 
Bub had foretold, Hogan was busy overhaul- 
ing the sprinkler. Owing to the deep snow the 
marshy places near the stream had frozen only 
to a slight depth and men were giving these 
spots a firmer foundation by laying spruce poles 
across them, making it a corduroy road. Oth- 
ers were clearing away the superfluous snow 
on the main road and making ‘^turnouts,’’ or 
short roads along the side, where an empty sled 
could turn aside to allow a loaded one to pass. 

After Bub had reported about the upper yard 
and the three pitches, Hogan screwed up his 
eyes thoughtfully and observed, ‘‘Well done, 
my dears. If it wasn’t a big yard I’d leave it 
and let them snake them out with the swing- 
dingle next season. But we ’ve got to git them. 
If it wasn’t for that one bit of road this would 
be a snap. Couldn’t we use a snow-slide, 
honey?” 

Buh shook his head, explaining that the up- 
per yard was so situated as to render this plan 
impossible. “We could use a slide part way 
down, hut that would mean the logs would shoot 
off into the woods and have to he snaked out 


146 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


again and another slide used for part of the 
remaining distance. By the time you would 
slide them otf the cant it would be Fourth-of- 
July.’’ 

Then observing the puzzled expression on 
Stanley's face he explained that a snow-slide is 
a temporary affair on a steep slope and is made 
by dragging a large log through deep snow 
while it is soft or thawing. Freezing weather 
hardens it into a solid trough and then logs 
may be shot through it to a point where the sleds 
can pick them up. 

‘Hf you think iUs unusually dangerous we 
wonT try for them/^ said Stanley. have 
authority to say ‘no’ if you think it wise to let 
them alone.” 

“Never, darling!” cried Hogan, his eyes 
lighting with a reckless light. ‘ ‘ Sure there ’s a 
trifle of risk, but not enough to bother about. 
I’ll take the first load down myself to see if it’s 
easy sledding. ’ ’ 

The boys expected to find Foster and Noisy 
Charlie at the dinner table but were informed 
by Cub that the two had taken a lunch and might 
not be back till night. 

“Just their game,” remarked Bub, as he 
helped himself to a man’s portion of stewed 
beef and anxiously watched his neighbor ladle 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 


147 


out the prunes. ‘‘The minute we start out on 
our own hook those two begin cruising round 
to see that nothing can break through and bite 

us.’’ 

“Abner is the same,” reminded Stanley. 
“I’m surprised he didn’t come along with 
us.” 

“He knew we could take care of ourselves,” 
stoutly assured Bub. “Since I’ve been away 
to school he’s realized I can look out for Number 
one. He also knows I don’t want to be con- 
sidered dependent — ” 

A hand, reaching over his shoulder and 
snatching a biscuit from his fingers, caused him 
to pause midway in his remarks with mouth 
agape. Stanley and Cub set up a roar of de- 
light, and then Abner Whitten seated himself 
beside his kinsman and appropriated his plate 
of beef, gently remarking, “Thanks, Bubb'y, for 
having it ready for me. I knew ye’d be expect- 
ing me. Who ’s got all the potatoes I Tell that 
Frenchman to go light on that pie — there won’t 
be enough to go round. Now, Bub, you was 
saying!” 

“I now say I’m tickled to death that you’re 
here,” grinned Bub, his eyes lighting with affec- 
tion. 

“But there was some words said about being 


148 


THE YOUNH LOGGEES 


able to look out for Number one/’ murmured 
Abner, eyeing Bub slyly. 

‘ ^ Cub had to be disciplined last night and for 
a penalty he had to bake a pie for every man 
in the camp to-day,” glibly informed Bub. 

This was a positive way of escaping from any 
quizzing, for the moment Abner heard the news 
his long beard began to bristle and he sternly 
demanded, ‘‘Mister Blaine, I s’pose ye made me 
a pier’ 

“But I didn’t know you were coming,” pro- 
tested Cub. 

‘ ‘ What ! Didn ’t know I was coming when my 
own relation sets here right afore yer eyes and 
nose and prepares a big dish of stewed beef for 
me?” roared Abner, smiting the table with his 
first. “And ye mean to say I don’t come in on 
this pie deal?” 

“I’ll give you half of mine,” otfered Bub. 

“So will I,” grinned Stanley. 

“You can have half of mine,” quickly as- 
sented Cub. 

“Well, s’pose that’ll have to do,” grumbled 
Abner, lowering his eyes to conceal the merri- 
ment. ‘ ‘ That makes a pie and a half due me. ’ ’ 

The boys would willingly have given many 
pies for the sake of his kindly company ; nor did 
either of them fail to appreciate that his com- 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 


149 


ing was due entirely to his care for them. He 
disliked the Mt. Crow region. There were 
many pleasanter places where he could put in 
his time. But wherever Bub went he must fol- 
low, especially if the youngster ^s path led him 
into possible danger. 

‘‘Charlie’s up here,” announced Stanley. 

“Of course. Where else should he be?” 
snapped Abner. 

“Foster Farnum is also here,” added Cub, 
bringing a collection of dainties to place about 
the veteran’s plate. 

This surprised Abner, as he did not know the 
old trapper had wandered that far from home. 
But the knowledge that his two old cronies were 
at hand pleased him hugely. “That’s good 
news ’ ’ — ^he was beginning to say ; when the door 
of the camp opened and the Indian and the trap- 
per entered. 

After the general greeting was finished Stan- 
ley reminded the two that they were supposed 
to be gone for the day. 

“We did plan to spend the day out cruising 
for signs,” gravely said Foster. “But we 
finished our work. Queerest case I ever 
struck.” 

“Bad spirit make big medicine,” grunted 
Charlie. 


150 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


^ * Wliat in sin have ye found now 1 ’ ^ demanded 
Abner. 

‘^Wal, we struck a fresh trail in the snow. 
Didn’t start from anywhere, just began in 
the snow. We followed it. It was made by 
a wide-stepping person — or thing — ^moving in 
a hurry. Then it quit near the top of a high 
ledge as unreasonable as it started. What d’ye 
know about that ? ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ First you see um. Then you don ’t see um, ’ ’ 
murmured the Indian. 

‘‘The man jumped or fell over the ledge,” 
suggested Stanley. 

“Not by a long chalk!” cried Foster. “The 
trail quit more’n thirty feet from the clift.” 

“With all yer knowledge of the woods ye 
couldn’t make it out?” gasped Abner, hardly 
able to believe his old friend. 

“There wa’n’t anything to make out,” grave- 
ly replied Foster. “There was the trail. It 
commenced just as if some one dropped out of 
the sky. ’ ’ 

“Maybe out of a tree,” suggested Bub. 

“But there wasn’t any trail leading to the 
tree,” retorted Foster. “Then it disap- 
peared.” 

“Snow blew in and covered it?” hinted Ab- 


ner. 


A PECULIAR TRAIL 


151 


‘‘Ye tLink that poorly of me, Abner, sor- 
rowfully asked Foster. 

“No snow, no wind cover it. Trail made by 
um spirit,’’ declared the Indian. 


CHAPTEE IX 


STANLEY'S QUEST 

Foe the first time in his woods experience Stan- 
ley was determined to withhold a confidence 
from his comrades. The adventure of the In- 
dian and Abner in finding and losing the 
mysterious trail whetted his curiosity keenly. 
The fact the trail was inexplicable seemed 
a challenge to him to solve the mystery. Or- 
dinarily he would have at least invited Bub to 
share in his investigations. Now there were 
several reasons to influence him to the contrary. 
First, he believed that any unusual bit of inves- 
tigation should be carried on by himself alone 
as it was his uncle who was president of the com- 
pany. It seemed hardly fair that he should in- 
duce Bub to abandon the rut of routine when his 
status in the camp was that of a visitor merely. 
Cub was out of the question because of his 
habit to become involved in difficulties. 

Secondly, Abner Whitten had just arrived to 
enjoy his kinsman’s company. It would be 
cruel to the veteran cruiser to take the boy 

152 


STANLEY’S QUEST 


153 


away and cause the old man worry the first day 
he arrived in camp. To take Charlie or Foster 
into his plans would mean a stern order for him 
to remain in camp ; and the order would be en- 
forced were he a dozen times the nephew of the 
powerful lumber magnate. No; so far as he 
could interpret the situation his only chance of 
satisfying himself as to the origin of the lost 
trail was to take to the woods alone and say 
nothing of his venture until he had returned. 
He fully appreciated just how strongly the men 
would condemn his action, but the thing would 
have been done and he would have the satisfac- 
tion of knowing he had taken the hazard alone 
out of loyalty to his uncle. The interests of 
the Great Northern must be conserved and he 
was the logical person to clear up the enigma. 

He might have held back had he taken the ex- 
planation of the old trapper and the Indian at 
face value. But knowing their superstitious 
bent and allowing for the natural exaggeration 
of a woodsman he was convinced the solution to 
the puzzle would be an easy and thoroughly 
normal one. For Stanley possessed an emi- 
nently practical mind and did not believe a trail 
could begin in the open and end in the open as 
his old friends had described the tracks near 
the ledge to have ended. From their descrip- 


154 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


tion of the place he was confident he could make 
the distance and return before supper without 
undue fatigue. They had started forth in the 
morning and after ranging over a wide stretch 
of country had easily made camp by dinner time. 
Traveling direct he believed he could go and re- 
turn before anyone had had time to become 
alarmed over his absence. 

Ordinarily he would have found difficulty in 
leaving camp without being seen and questioned. 
Now the opportunity was ideal. Hogan and 
the men were too busy preparing for the mor- 
row’s work to give any heed to the boys; Cub 
was confined to the cook’s camp and Bub was 
taken up with Abner. Foster and Noisy 
Charlie, wearied a bit from their hurried trip, 
were well content to keep Abner and his relative 
company, idly smoking their pipes and listening 
to the old man and the youth conversing. 

Without being observed Stanley went to the 
horse-hovel where he and Bub had left their 
shoes, and unnoticed by the men procured his 
pair of shoes and sauntered down the road. 
Once out of sight of the camps, with old Mt. 
Crow towering ahead, a mute challenge to his 
prowess, he buckled the straps and struck off 
smartly in the general direction taken by him 
and Bub that morning. He purposed to ascend 


STANLEY’S QUEST 


155 


as high as the upper yard and then circle the 
side of the mountain till he reached the lost trail. 

For sometime after his departure the sound 
of the men’s cheery voices followed him; then 
gradually all sounds dwindled and faded until 
he walked alone. He regretted the dying out of 
the voices. They had kept him company and 
caused him to feel that his little adventure was 
commonplace. Once they ceased he suddenly 
decided he was very much alone ; in fact, enough 
so to feel lonely. In all his experience in the 
big woods the occasions when he had been left by 
himself were very few. Always, as a rule, 
either some of the men or the boys had accom- 
panied him. Now he was absolutely alone, with 
only the silent forest for an environment. In 
spring he would have been enlivened by the mat- 
ing songs of the birds and regaled by the aroma 
of fresh, growing things. In autumn the mi- 
gratory chorus of the birds would have filled the 
air and together with the gorgeous coloring of 
the deciduous trees distracted both eye and ear. 
Now there was nothing but interminable wastes 
of snow, somber evergreens and the stark array 
of hardwood growth. True, there was life in 
every covert, but he could not see it. The 
crunching of his shoes warned all the wild things 
to withdraw and the gray form of the lynx 


156 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


drifted aside from his trail like a ghost without 
his sensing its proximity. 

After the first thirty minutes of dwelling on 
the solitude he resolutely shook off his feeling of 
depression and told himself the sun was bright 
and the air keen and bracing. It was glorious 
to be alive in such an environment on such a 
day. This led him to study the heavens to ver- 
ify his inventory of nature and he was chagrined 
to find the sun growing dull as though a haze of 
cloud particles were obscuring it. Instead of 
the mid-winter blue the zenith now took on a 
pearly gray tinge. 

This portended snow and he became anxious 
to locate the puzzling tracks before a squall 
should obliterate them. Climbing higher and 
higher he at last reached the level of the upper 
yard and began his tedious circuit of the moun- 
tain. None of the party, except Foster and the 
Indian, had ever explored the far side of the 
mountain, and his blood began to thrill with the 
zest of the pioneer who is about to look on a 
new country, undisturbed by the practices of 
man. 

But walking on the side of a stiff slope is 
arduous work and extremely wearying to the 
ankles. At times he would encounter a sharp 
pitch, where the northeast wind had nearly 


STANLEY’S QUEST 


157 


bared the ledges of snow, leaving but an icy 
foothold. It was then he found cause to rejoice 
in Bub’s forethought in equipping his shoes 
with ‘^creepers.” The small, triangular pieces 
of steel bit sharply into ice and frozen snow and 
saved him from many a fall. At the best, how- 
ever, it tired him and he decided the return trip 
should be accomplished at the foot of the moun- 
tain. Again, there were steep declivities to be 
crossed, when he found it advisable to climb 
above them until he had found a level stretch. 

These occasional swervings from the line he 
wished to follow threatened to interfere with his 
reckoning and cause him embarrassment. He 
only avoided confusion of direction by taking 
some tree or boulder as a landmark when swing- 
ing above or below his natural course. Once 
having passed the hazardous strip of ledge or 
snow he would patiently regain a level in line 
with the landmark, and thus satisfied himself he 
was not wandering from the proper horizontal 
course. 

Once, when about half way round the moun- 
tain, he met with a discouraging mishap. He 
came upon a wide stretch of open ledge, sloping 
far to the woods below at a steep angle. He 
halted and examined it thoughtfully. To de- 
scend would call for an immense expenditure of 


158 


THE YOUNH LOGGERS 


time and labor as it led nearly to the base of the 
mountain. To ascend would necessitate a long 
and painful climb. He finally decided to at- 
tempt to cross it. Before doing so he was wise 
enough to cut him a long spruce pole, which he 
would use as an Alpine stock. Then tightening 
his straps he gingerly worked his way forward. 
The first few rods were covered without any un- 
usual difficulty and he began to congratulate 
himself on his decision. Then the wind caught 
him. It had been very calm back in the shelter 
of the evergreens, but here the breezes blew per- 
sistently and steadily, striking him quartering 
from above and forcing him to incline forward 
and inward at an acute angle. In thus assail- 
ing him the wind added to his discomfort by 
catching up the light surface snow and hurling 
it into his face. He needed both hands to keep 
the pole in play and at all times he must ad- 
vance slowly and surely. 

Some times a shoe would slip almost from 
under him in spite of the creepers and it re- 
quired instant action with the pole to prevent 
himself sliding down the slope with the rapidity 
of a man sliding off a snow-covered roof. He 
shuddered as he pictured the possible results of 
such an accident. A broken leg would be as 
fatal, he told himself, as a broken neck. For 


STANLEY’S QUEST 159 

he would not be missed for sometime ; he could 
not be found for hours. Before help could ar- 
rive he would freeze to death. For the first 
time he began to question the wisdom of his 
plan. 

But clean living had equipped him with a 
sturdy spirit and gritting his teeth he clutched 
the pole and hitched himself forward. When 
the wind would concentrate its power and 
pounce upon him with unusual severity he would 
dig the pole into the crust and crouch low, wait- 
ing for a lull. In this laborious fashion he half 
completed the distance when his accident hap- 
pened. The wind had apparently died out and 
with a sigh of relief he straightened and 
stretched his arms above his head to ease the 
aching muscles. In that moment of unguard- 
edness a blast swept down upon him and in an 
instant he was prone on the icy ledge and roll- 
ing downward. 

In vain he attempted to get a purchase point 
for his pole and stop his flight. Faster and 
faster he bumped and slid until by accident he 
happened to roll to his feet, the snow-shoes serv- 
ing him as toboggans. By good luck he had re- 
tained his grasp on the pole and once he found 
himself upright and shooting downward with 
ever increasing velocity he recalled Bub’s les- 


160 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


son as to how to slow down the flight of skees. 
Working the stout pole between his legs till it 
extended out behind him he began settling on it, 
causing it to act as a brake. His descent grew 
less rapid. What the creepers could not accom- 
plish the friction of the pole brought about. 
With a strong pull upward on the pole and at 
the same time sinking the full weight of his body 
upon it, he slowed down to a halt. 

With a groan of disgust he cautiously righted 
about and took his bearings. He was far below 
his course. For a moment he hesitated. He 
was almost inclined to continue the descent and 
return to camp. Then he clicked his teeth. 
Men in the woods did not turn back because of 
obstacles. Obstacles were simply things that 
must be removed or overcome. They abounded 
everywhere. He resumed his crawling, limp- 
ing way round the mountain. 

After what seemed an extremely long period 
of time he reached the friendly shelter of the 
spruce and felt safe in relaxing his muscles and 
standing erect. He rested for some minutes 
and then stubbornly began fighting his way back 
to the proper level, taking a diagonal course. 

When he regained the lost ground he consulted 
his watch to learn how much time he had lost. 
He decided the mishap had cost him an hour at 


STANLEY’S QUEST 161 

the least. And sixty minutes lost in a January 
afternoon can hardly be made up. In replacing 
his watch he missed his compass. Hurriedly 
searching his pockets he failed to find it. It 
undoubtedly was lost during his topsy-turvey 
flight down the slope. It annoyed him but did 
not dismay him. He would only have to follow 
the mountain back to make the camp. Or he 
could point the hour hand of his watch at the 
sun and south would be half way between the 
hour hand and the figure 12. 

But the sun was only a yellow blot in the sky. 
The haze had increased. “I don’t care,” he 
doggedly muttered. can’t lose the moun- 
tain. If I follow round it I’ve got to strike the 
camp. Now I must make up for lost time, as it 
may snow and bury those confounded tracks.” 

His difficulties were not ended, however, as 
within the next five minutes he came to a blow 
down, where some tempestuous wind had felled 
a narrow lane of trees, much as a child tumbles 
down dominoes by tipping over the first in a 
row. Their tops and limbs were heaped 
some fifteen feet deep, the whole mass being 
covered with snow. To cross them on shoes 
was impossible. To remove his shoes and crawl 
over them meant much time and labor, nor would 
the passage be entirely free from danger. 


162 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


For the second time Stanley felt discouraged. 
Then he remembered that obstacles were always 
to be overcome and he took time to examine the 
length of the tangled area. In the fast declin- 
ing light he saw he must descend far down the 
slope to round them. Above him they stretched 
to a lesser distance and appeared to be less 
thickly massed. 

Deciding to mount above them he grasped 
his stick firmly and began fighting his way up- 
ward. It took his wind cruelly and long before 
he reached a point where he dare to attempt a 
crossing his lips were dry and his throat 
parched. Consequently he began to sutler from 
thirst. He placed a bit of icy crust in his mouth 
and allowed it to dissolve. It only aggravated 
his condition. 

‘H’m in for it,’’ he muttered. must go 
it dry. If I hadn’t come so far I’d turn back.” 

He now had a view to the westward and re- 
gretted to find the forest crown rapidly being 
lost to sight in a fleecy wall of white. A squall 
was coming. Already the low lands were be- 
ing obliterated. It embittered him to fear that 
after all his exertions he might be too late to 
find the trail. Pressing his lips firmly he re- 
doubled his pace, now finding a natural avenue 
through the prostrate trees. As he emerged 


STANLEY’S QUEST 163 

from the tangled barrier he received his first bit 
of encouragement; for before him, only half 
convealed by the shifting snow, were the tracks 
left by Foster and the Indian. He could tell 
Charlie’s trail by the peculiar shape of his 
shoes, they being well rounded with short tails. 

The trail led upward. Eejoicing at his good 
fortune he almost forgot his thirst in following 
it. It almost seemed as though a friend had 
joined him. 

It needed some such comforting fancies to 
buoy him up, for the outlook from the moun- 
tain-side was most gloomy and depressing. 
Seen from the window of a snug camp, or from 
the shelter of lean-to, with friends by his side, it 
would have appealed to his love of the rugged 
and picturesque, but not so when viewed alone. 
The sky was overcast with a dark, leaden pall. 
The forest melted into the snow clouds, merged 
with the advancing gray wall, until there seemed 
nothing substantial in the world below him. 
The wind in soughing through the pines brought 
a mournful note. The dead, persistent leaves 
of a beech gave forth a metallic, whimpering 
note. In the lowlands he would have pro- 
nounced it musical. Now it only accentuated 
his sense of loneliness. 

It was still quite light on the mountain, even 


164 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


with the woods below garbing themselves with 
shadows. In the west a dull, yellow glow, that 
made him think of a lemon wafer, betokened 
the sun. His world was closing in and contract- 
ing, he told himself. Soon it would be with- 
drawn from his gaze entirely. He seriously 
wished he had waited and started on his trip of 
a morning. An afternoon was all too short for 
such a venture. 

But the tracks at his feet encouraged him to 
keep on. It would be silly, he assured himself, 
to turn back when he might be on the verge of 
reaching the end of his friends ’ trail His solil- 
oquy was interrupted by a shoe working loose. 
Kneeling in the snow to examine it he was dis- 
heartened to discover the frog was in need of 
repairs. The strain put upon it by his rough 
climbing had caused one of the rawhide throngs 
to break. Fortunately he always carried sev- 
eral strips of rawhide in his pocket — a lesson 
learned from Bub — and, if somewhat awk- 
wardly, he managed to remedy the damage. 
When he rose to his feet it seemed as though 
the night had waited for him to cease his watch- 
fulness that it might take him unawares. To 
his dismay it was almost impossible to make out 
any details of the country at the foot of the 
mountain. 


STANLEY’S QUEST 165 

Now be regretted in earnest his secrecy in 
taking the trip. Not that he worried as to his 
own safety, for the way to camp seemed easy 
to follow. But he knew his friends by this time 
were greatly alarmed and that his disappear- 
ance must have set the whole camp into a fine 
uproar. He felt ashamed of the bother he was 
putting them to. 

This realization might have operated to turn 
him back if an inexplicable thing had not hap- 
pened at that moment. He suddenly became 
conscious of a peculiar sound in the air, one not 
made by the wind. It was incredible, yet it 
sounded like music. 

^H’m getting loony,” he whispered, yet 
straining his ears to gather in and diagnose the 
faint melody. ‘‘I’ll be hearing brass-bands 
next.” 

But scoff as he would his ears persisted in 
telling him that it was music he heard. There 
was a continuity and purpose in the strain that 
precluded any phenomena of nature. He could 
not distinguish the air; he only knew it had a 
wailing note. Nor could he decide whence it 
emanated. 

He continued to advance slowly and cau- 
tiously. Where there was music there must be 
a musician, he knew. Suddenly it stopped and 


166 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


for several minutes he heard it no more. He 
wondered if his imagination had seized upon 
some faint notes of the wind and had con- 
structed the rest. As he pushed his quest far- 
ther he caught it again, this time more distinctly. 
He even decided it was the music of a violin. 

At times it seemed very near, allowing him 
to follow the air closely. Then it would die 
away, as though a breeze had intervened to 
lessen the volume, or the player had sought ex- 
pression in lightening the touch of his bow. 

‘‘That’s the queerest deal I ever heard of,” 
muttered Stanley, not knowing whether to be 
afraid or simply puzzled. He knew the Indian 
would have attributed it to some supernatural 
agency. He did not share Charlie’s readiness 
in that direction ; yet it was most odd and per- 
plexing. Had it been at the base of the moun- 
tain he would have said some lumberman, some 
hunter or trapper, was dispelling the gloom of 
night. But who would camp out on the side of 
Mt. Crow? 

Instantly his inner self answered, “Why not 
the gray axeman?” The boy frowned and 
halted. He wanted to find the trail and exam- 
ine it and explain its mystery away. He had 
no desire to encounter the strange being who 
left “widow makers” hanging over logging 


STANLEY’S QUEST 167 

roads to kill and cripple honest loggers. He 
was sorry he had laughed at Cub for being 
frightened at what he had seen in the cook’s 
camp. 

‘Hf it’s the axeman,” he rapidly decided, ‘‘he 
must havef his, hiding-place near here. If I 
move cautiously I may locate him. Then to 
make the camp and arouse the men. Inside of 
six hours we could have the gentleman explain- 
ing his actions. ’ ^ 

Making for the point whence the music seemed 
to flow Stanley stealthily advanced, halting only 
when the music ceased. It was now dusk and 
he could see only a short distance in any direc- 
tion. Several times his imagination suggested 
that a tall, gray figure was standing near. 
Sometimes it was a trunk of a tree, sometimes 
a broken stump, fantastically hooded with snow. 
He was forced to remain standing for several 
minutes before the music came again to guide 
him. What seemed strange was the fact that he 
could not decide upon any exact objective point. 
It always sounded ahead, and yet when he 
turned at right angles from his course it still 
confronted him. 

He had now reached a level spot with the trees 
growing widely apart. It was no longer possi- 
ble for him to make out the old trapper’s trail 


168 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


unless he stooped very low. Just now he was 
more interested in discovering the source of the 
music than in following the snow-shoe tracks. 
He took a few steps forward and the music rose 
full and clear. It was ‘‘Hearts and Flowers,” 
a favorite of his. He had played it in his 
school glee club and for an amateur performer 
on the violin had played it remarkably well. 

But it was now being played by a master and 
with a delicacy of expression that caused him to 
forget his bleak environment, his errand and 
even the oddity of the situation. He loved the 
beautiful strains and as they enveloped him his 
thirst and weariness vanished. 

He vaguely decided the player was near, yet 
he seemed to be floating in the air. All about 
him was music, yet no light pricked its welcome 
through the thickening night. 

With a jerk Stanley regained his scattered 
senses and sought by analysis to solve the prob- 
lem. It was fully as mysterious as the lost trail. 
Music was always associated in his mind with 
light and warmth. He could detect no light. 
But warmth suggested Are and if there be a fire 
he should smell the pungent smoke. Steeling 
his nerves to resist the influence of the mournful 
melody he snitfed the air critically. 

Yes, he caught a faint odor of smoke. At 


169 


STANLEY’S QUEST 

first he feared it might be a trick of his imag- 
ination but repeated tests assured him. Not 
only was the music a reality, but a tangible wood 
fire was burning close by. Whereas he had been 
apprehensive and suspicious he was now soothed 
into relaxing his watchfulness. No one who 
played like that, who enjoyed that particular 
air, was to be feared, he concluded. 

It was straight ahead. He would find it and 
learn the truth about the mystery. Even 
though he found himself face to face with the 
axeman he would carry the adventure to an end. 
The music drew him on, and with confident 
steps, but with eyes that could distinguish noth- 
ing, he threw back his head till the snow beat 
full in his face, and advanced. 

Now the wild harmony grew stronger and the 
reek of the smoke caught his eyes as well as 
his nostrils. He was upon it. In another sec- 
ond he would have located the strange musician. 

Then the earth seemed to be pulled from un- 
der his feet and all grew black and he knew 
nothing. 


CHAPTEE X 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUBE 

When he regained his senses Stanley was com- 
pletely at loss to know where he was or what 
had happened. It required several moments 
for him to identify himself. Finally he remem- 
bered his name and with a struggle retraced in 
his mind the events of the afternoon. In a flash 
it all came to him — the gathering night, the 
weird music and the plunge into oblivion. He 
did not venture to open his eyes, however, fear- 
ing it might be the signal for pain. Already he 
was conscious of a terrific headache. 

Of course he must be in the snow, he numbly 
repeated to himself, and yet there was a soft 
resilience beneath him that suggested springy 
boughs covered with a blanket. He finally de- 
cided he was warm and comfortable, but people 
are warm and comfortable when freezing to 
death. This recollection caused a pain to stab 
through his heart; he feared he was freezing. 
There was no mistake in the current of cold air 
touching his face, only it came intermittently. 

170 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE 171 


‘‘I might as well know the worsts ’’ he thought 
and with an effort half opened his eyes. 

His first thought was that he was in a huge 
burlap bag, only the hag was illuminated and 
not dark, as bags are supposed to be. Above 
him was a canopy of burlap that fluttered and 
rose and fell as though affected by a breeze. 
Gazing towards his feet he saw more burlap. 
In one place it bellied in like a sail and he knew 
it covered a door or window, for the current of 
cold air came from that direction. As to his 
immediate environment he observed he was ly- 
ing on some Lind of a couch close to a burlap- 
covered wall. What might be behind him he did 
not attempt to ascertain. With this partial in- 
ventory completed he rolled his eyes a bit, but 
without moving his head, and instantly stiffened 
in new fear. It was not the flames in the crude 
fireplace, nor the curious furnishings of the 
place that alarmed him, but the inert figure of a 
man, sitting on a log and bending far forward. 

Had it not been for one long, lean hand sharp- 
ly defined by the leaping fire he might have 
passed over this figure as being but so much 
more burlap, so motionless did it remain. Tak- 
ing the hand as his cue he slowly traced out the 
figure until he had scrutinized the long limbs, 
the head hung forward and half concealed from 


172 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


view. It was clothed in some rough, coarse 
stuff that must look gray and dusty in the day- 
time, the boy decided. At first he could not 
make out where the long hair left off and the 
rough garments began. 

Then it came to him ; the man had used feed 
bags in fashioning his garments. That account- 
ed for the gray and dusty appearance of his 
person. 

Beyond the silent figure were several axes, 
bright and new in appearance. They were fall- 
ing-axes, Stanley observed. Nor had he any 
doubt but what they had been stolen from the 
Great Northern camps. Allowing his inquis- 
itive gaze to wander more widely he saw more 
axes until he had counted fully a dozen. He 
could discover no cooking utensils, with the ex- 
ception of some empty lard pails. Beside the 
fire hung a ham, probably one that formerly be- 
longed to Abner Whitten ^s private stock. 

It was not until the figure moved a trifle that 
Stanley caught a glimpse of the violin. The 
man was holding it listlessly in one hand. As 
he moved the boy was permitted to study his 
profile. A long beard covered the features 
while the tangled hair fell low over the fore- 
head. Stanley at first thought his strange host 
was asleep and the next instant closed his eyes 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE 173 

as the figure began turning. He had read that 
the steady scrutiny of a person would cause that 
person to become conscious he was being gazed 
at. He feared he had unwittingly attracted the 
attention of the man. 

He kept his eyes closed but could not restrain 
a little shiver as he felt a hand lightly pass over 
his face. He had not heard the man move and 
yet he had left his log and had gained the couch, 
moving as lightly as a shadow. By a strong ex- 
ercise of will power Stanley remained motion- 
less. The hand did not touch him again, how- 
ever. Yet he dared not open his eyes for fear 
he would find himself staring into the face of 
the strange creature. He scarcely dared to 
breathe ; then he heard a slight movement at the 
fireplace. Realizing the man had quit his side 
he opened his eyes a trifle, then instantly closed 
them as he discovered the man was bending over 
him. With incredible quickness he had passed 
silently to the fire and back. Something hot 
pressed on the boy’s head and he barely re- 
strained himself from crying out in terror. 

It was a cloth soaked in hot water. Obvi- 
ously the unknown was bathing his head. 
Doubtless he had received an injury and that 
explained his headache. While accepting this 
explanation he became sleepy and before he 


174 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


could realize it had drowsed off. He could not 
have been unconscious more than a few mo- 
ments, for when he came to his senses the man 
was still bending over him, bathing his throb- 
bing head. 

When the hand and cloth were withdrawn 
Stanley slyly peeped up and saw the stranger 
was back by the fireplace, this time standing 
facing him. Closing his eyes to the merest slit 
the boy studied the man. The face, being cov- 
ered with the beard, had but little to reveal. 
The forehead, the boy decided, was high and 
full, although the mat of hair hanging forward 
concealed it. The eyes were what held his at- 
tention, however. They were sunken and glar- 
ing. It unnerved the boy to watch them. He 
feared they would discover he was awake, and 
he closed his own eyes to further simulate slum- 
ber. 

Then there sweetly stole over him the exquis- 
ite strains of the violin, played so softly and 
daintily that the music seemed to come from a 
great distance. Now the young logger dared to 
look. The man was humped over the violin, his 
head thrown back, disclosing a powerful neck 
and throat, while his eyes were closed. He 
played as though in a trance, his long body 
swaying gently in unison with the movements 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE 175 

of the bow, his breath coming deep and full as 
though he were asleep. Stanley shifted his po- 
sition a bit and one of his thick boots scraped 
harshly against the wall. The musician did not 
seem to heed it but continued with his playing. 
This emboldened the boy to open his eyes very 
wide and stare his full. 

Suddenly the violin was lowered and the 
player leaned quickly forward, staring sharply 
at the boy. For a few seconds Stanley was 
taken so thoroughly by surprise that he did not 
think to close his eyes. Instead he returned the 
steady gaze like one hypnotized. Still the 
stranger did not seem interested to find his un- 
invited guest awake. He acted more as one ob- 
livious to the fact. He tucked the violin under 
his chin and for the fraction of a moment held 
the bow suspended, ready to play. Then he be- 
gan muttering to himself. It was unintelligible 
at first, the words rushing forth with great 
vehemency, but meaning nothing to the 
youth. 

Tossing the violin aside the stranger abruptly 
rose and began pacing back and forth, gestur- 
ing wildly with his lean hands. As he passed 
close to the startled boy’s couch Stanley noticed 
the finger-nails were long, reminding him of the 
claws of a bird of prey. 


176 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘No, no, no!’’ he burst forth into coherent 
speech as he halted and stamped heavily with 
his foot. “It won’t do. It must not, shall not 
be done. I must be true to my trust. They 
must be stopped. No matter what the cost, they 
must be stopped. Injury to them? Bah! what 
does their personal welfare amount to compared 
with the welfare of the generations yet to 
come? Who would not gladly suffer some loss 
if it means health and happiness for the chil- 
dren of to-morrow. I’ll not think of that. I 
must be firm. I am the guardian. I must do 
my duty. ’ ’ 

Next the voice shifted from its full, strong 
note to a scarcely audible under-key, and talking 
most rapidly the man strode to the fireplace 
and picked up an axe. 

Now indeed did Stanley seek to withdraw in- 
side of himself, and he shook from head to heel. 
The axe, the man’s agitation in picking it up and 
critically running his thumb along the blade, 
appealed to the frightened youngster as being 
most sinister and threatening. But no harm 
came to him. Dropping the axe as abruptly as 
he had seized it the man groaned aloud, as 
though suffering fearfully and seized the violin. 
Now he played with violence, some air filled with 
crashing, wailing strains, something so wild and 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUEE 177 


hopeless that even in his terror Stanley decided 
it must be an original composition, suggested to 
the player by the wind and the blizzard and the 
crashing of uprooted trees in the deep forest. 
It seemed to portray the abandon of the storm, 
the fright of the wanderer lost in the night, the 
fierce exultation of the wild things of the woods 
when coming upon their prey. 

don’t like it,” Stanley told himself. 

It concluded with an ear-splitting screech, 
rivaling in its tensity the cry of the lynx. 

‘‘They shall be driven back!” passionately 
cried the man, again throwing the instrument 
aside. “I have warned them for the last time. 
At first I was fool enough to believe that if I 
gave them the weakly rooted trees they would 
be satisfied. But no! They are ever hungry. 
They feed on the virgin forest. They eat, eat, 
eat. They will never fill their maws. They are 
eating up all the trees in the world. Think of 
it ! A world without a tree ! ’ ’ 

He paused and shuddered violently as though 
the spectacle he had conjured up in his insane 
mind was too frightful for contemplation. His 
voice was unsteady and shaking as he continued, 
now speaking in a half -whisper, “A world with- 
out a tree! Oh, not that! And yet, who is 
to blame?” As he put the query he straight- 


178 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


ened and his voice took on its former stern ring 
and he jerked his head quickly from side to 
side as if seeking to find someone ready to an- 
swer his question. 

‘‘Who^s to blame r’ he repeated, this time in 
mockery. know. I have seen them exact- 
ing their toll. They come straggling like ants 
into the noble forest. They crawl and creep 
and we laugh at them — for they are but ants. 
Then crash! a noble tree is down — its life 
ended. Aye, there ’s danger and death in these 
man-ants. When it’s too late we learn they 
carry death into the forest. Yes, they must be 
stopped. ’ ’ 

Unable to compose his limbs Stanley now at- 
tracted the wild man’s attention by the convul- 
sive twitching of his limbs. For a few seconds 
the stranger stared at him blankly, trying to re- 
call how he came there, perhaps. Then he 
leaped forward and seizing the boy by the collar 
dragged him from the couch and stood over 
him. ^ ^ They kill out the forest, ’ ’ he wildly mut- 
tered, repeating the words several times. ^ ‘ And 
I was told to stop them and still they come with 
their saws and axes. ’ ’ 

The last seemed to suggest something to him, 
for turning he snatched up an axe and began 
swinging it in glittering circles about his head. 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE 179 

Stanley, now fearing for his life, slowly crawled 
to his feet, ready to attempt an escape should the 
axeman attack him. The only point of egress 
so far as he could see was the spot where the 
burlap bagging bellied inward before the on- 
slaught of the wind. 

The madman continued his violent exertions 
for nearly a minute, sometimes crying out in a 
loud voice, sometimes speaking scarcely above 
a whisper. And the axe flashed and turned, 
weaving patterns of silver in the air. 

Believing he must take some initiative if he 
would escape bodily harm Stanley cast about for 
some means of defense. His eye fell on the 
violin ; with a sudden resolve he edged towards 
this, always keeping his gaze on the whirling 
steel. The man did not seem to sense his pres- 
ence but continued his meaningless jabbering 
as he twirled the axe. At last the boy discov- 
ered an opening and darting forward snatched 
up the instrument and bow. 

The stranger suddenly halted his frenzied 
movements and stared at the boy steadily, as if 
observing him for the first time. As he noted 
the violin in the youth’s trembling hands the 
light in his eyes grew wilder and he moved a 
step forward. Believing that all depended on 
the next few seconds Stanley tucked the violin 


180 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


under his chin and began playing his old favor- 
ite, ‘‘Hearts and Flowers.” At the first fa- 
miliar strains the axeman stiffened and his 
grasp on the axe relaxed. Gaining new confi- 
dence Stanley played as he had never played 
before, his touch gaining precision as he con- 
tinued. 

Slowly, very slowly the axe was lowered and 
then fell with a metallic clang at his feet. With 
a strange exultation in his breast Stanley now 
played boldly. The man sank on to the log be- 
fore the fire and buried his disheveled head in 
his hands. “Before everything happened,” he 
muttered, “before they begin to kill the forest 
— ^yes, it was that I loved.” 

Now was the time to escape, Stanley decided, 
and his eyes gleamed with rekindled hope as he 
began edging towards the concealed opening. 
But the man seemed to sense his purpose and 
raised his head suddenly, a menace smoldering 
in his sunken eyes. Without a word he rose 
and stepped in front of the boy and motioned 
him to move back to the couch. With a sinking 
heart Stanley obeyed the mute command, dully 
wondering if he Were ever destined to leave the 
place. Where he was he had not the slightest 
idea. He did shrewdly decide, however, that 
an accident had happened to him outside the 



Gaining new confidence Stanley played as he had 
never played before. See Page 180 . 








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AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUEE 181 


queer retreat and that the axeman had brought 
him inside and placed him on the blankets. 

So long as he played the man remained mo- 
tionless, studying him with strange intensity. 
At last, when his arm grew weary and he allowed 
the bow to drop, his unkempt companion 
showed signs of uneasiness and resumed mut- 
tering. 

Seating himself on the edge of the couch the 
boy watched him sharply. His head ached most 
villainously and he could feel his heart thump- 
ing as though it would smash a hole in his ribs. 
He knew he could not endure much more fatigue. 
His throat troubled him and for the first time 
he remembered he was very thirsty. One of 
the lard pails seemed to be filled with some- 
thing and quickly stepping to it he discovered it 
contained water. It was sprinkled with bits of 
bark and twigs and had once been frozen snow. 
But as he raised it to his lips and drank long and 
deeply he decided he had never tasted a sweeter 
draught. 

His companion did not resent this liberty and 
continued studying him keenly. Thinking it 
wise to make a display of boldness and recalling 
how Christian walked through the lion that be- 
set his path Stanley next essayed to gain the 
opening. This time he approached with a great 


182 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


show of confidence. The man moved one side, 
watching him with questioning gaze. The lad 
believed he was to win clear and his temples 
began to pound at the thought of escaping and 
making the camp. 

He was cruelly disappointed when the man 
suddenly emitted a hoarse cry and threw him- 
self before the bulging blanket, his eyes flaming 
with rage. As he stood thus, his head thrust 
well forward, his gaze fastened on the cringing 
boy, one muscular hand shot out to the wall and 
fumbled till the long fingers had found an axe. 
Leaping back to the couch Stanley picked up the 
violin and played a few strains. This time, as 
before, the music seemed to quiet the strange 
being, and although he maintained his position 
the axe was not raised. 

Ve learned that lesson,’’ muttered the dry- 
lipped boy, speaking half aloud. ‘‘This tune 
soothes him. He doesn’t intend I shall quit 
here. I must wait till he is asleep — if he ever 
sleeps.” 

“Whispers!” muttered the man. “Those 
who whisper must be watched. Aye, it must 
be whisperers who kill off the forests. Men 
who crawl like ants will not talk aloud. They 
whisper, whisper, always planning how to kill 
the trees.” 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUEE 183 


Stanley pressed his lips firmly together, in- 
tent on holding them motionless. This time he 
was compelled to play on the violin for several 
minutes before he could erase the suspicious 
glare from the madman ^s eyes. Obviously es- 
cape was out of the question while the man re- 
mained awake. To set him an example Stanley 
threw himself on the couch and pretended to 
sleep. 

Almost immediately the stranger reverted to 
the frame of mind which led him to dress the 
boy’s hurts and with all the fierceness gone from 
his face he patiently heated water and then set 
about bathing the lad’s head with it. His touch 
was light and gentle and it was hard to reconcile 
his gentle demeanor with his wild bearing of a 
few moments before. He talked to himself as 
he soaked a cloth in the water and then applied 
it to the bruised scalp. But now his mumbling 
was of a crooning nature, as if he were attempt- 
ing to lull the lad to slumber. Believing this 
to be the best plan Stanley closed his eyes and 
began deep and regular breathing. For some 
minutes the man sat beside him ; then noiselessly 
rose and returned to the fire. 

There he remained, idly staring into the dying 
flames. Gusts of cold air continually invaded 
the place. The fire needed to be replenished* 


184 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


The man then lifted his head as if listening and 
Stanley’s heart beat high with fear and elation. 
He believed his friends were outside and he re- 
joiced to think he was about to be rescued. But 
as he remembered the axe his spirits fell ; before 
his friends could liberate him the madman might 
do some of them a terribly injury. Had he 
known that his voice would call them to him he 
would have remained silent. It was no hostile 
sound, however, that was attracting the man’s 
attention. 

For he rubbed his hands gleefully and cocked 
his head towards the swaying curtain of burlap. 
Then he revealed the cause of his good spirits by 
softly eulogizing, ^^Good snow! Faithful snow! 
What would I do without you? Each flake 
is a friend. Each storm is my staunch ally. 
You hide me. You cover my tracks. You 
make the whisperers keep close while I try to 
satisfy their greed by felling the weak-rooted 
trees. You spread a blanket around me when 
I go for food and more sharp axes. Ah, if I 
could only take away all the axes in the world 
then they could not kill the forests. The axes 
and the saws! I must get more. Snow on! 
Snow hard! A night’s work is to be done.” 

As he finished he stole to the curtain and 
thrust out his head. His hair was sprinkled 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUEE 185 


with snowflakes when he withdrew it. He stole 
to Stanley’s side and listened intently. The 
boy’s breathing was that of one who slumbers. 
Had he been cunning enough to feel Stanley’s 
pulse that little tell-tale trip-hammer would have 
informed him instantly that his unwilling guest 
was wide awake and agitated by the most un- 
wholesome emotions. But his cunning did not 
include such precautions, and after another brief 
survey of the sleeper and the fire he picked up 
an axe and vanished through the opening. 

Stanley could hardly believe in his good luck 
at first and remained quiescent, fully expecting 
the man to return. But minute slowly suc- 
ceeded minute and he was alone. Then did he 
dare to hope the utmost and with frenzied haste 
rolled off the couch and gained his feet. Eeason 
now stepped forward and held his nerves in 
check, and he murmured, ‘ ‘ Quiet and easy wins, 
old chap. The snowshoes first. Ah, here they 
are. Now for a farewell drink of that snow- 
water.” Eeplacing the pail he produced his 
knife and sliced otf a large piece of the smoked 
ham. It was raw but it tasted good. Next he 
consulted his watch. It said six o’clock, but as 
it had stopped he decided that was the hour 
when he met with his accident. He knew it must 
be sometime between midnight and morning. 


186 


THE YOUNH LOGGERS 


His friends would be greatly alarmed. Wbat 
was worse they would be abroad in the forest 
seeking him. The gray axeman was also 
abroad. Stanley shivered as he wondered what 
mischief the man would do his friends should he 
come upon them. His only consoling thought 
was the recollection that heretofore the axe- 
man had always retreated. 

Tucking his snowshoes under his arm he next 
brushed aside the burlap and felt the cold win- 
ter air full on his hot face. The tiny icy flecks 
peppering his brow were snowflakes. He cared 
not for the storm ; he only asked that he might 
be allowed to escape from the place. Intent 
only on this he let the curtain swing down be- 
hind him and stepped forward. He was in- 
stantly precipitated several feet on to his face 
in the snow. Obviously the egress from the axe- 
man ^s hiding-place should be carefully studied 
if one did not wish to meet with a mishap. The 
fall did him no harm, however, and once he as- 
certained his shoes were intact he quickly waded 
into the thick of the forest. Not until he had 
placed several rods between him and the 
axeman’s covert did he pause to put on the 
shoes. 

He had lost all sense of direction except as 
he knew the wind must be blowing from the west. 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUEE 187 


Accepting tliat as a fact he gave his hack to it 
and slowly began his journey through the dark- 
ness. Being unable to see anything he fre- 
quently bumped into trees and stumbled over 
fallen tree trunks. Eealizing this mode of ad- 
vance might result in a broken shoe or a broken 
leg he fumbled about till he found a sapling and 
then cut it and trimmed it into a staff. With 
this as feeler he managed better and saved him- 
self many a bruise. 

His progress was very slow and at times, 
when within the shelter of the spruce he lost 
the guiding wind, he would halt and wonder if 
he were making towards the east. Mt. Crow 
should be on his right, or to the south. Occa- 
sionally he would encounter a slope that led up- 
ward toward the north. While positive he could 
not have made a complete circuit of the moun- 
tain the darkness allowed his imagination to 
play him sad tricks and more than once he 
crouched in the snow with his mackinaw collar 
pulled above his head, determined to wait till 
morning before using up his strength. Then 
would come the thought of his comrades and as 
he pictured their dismay he would stagger to 
his feet and plunge onw'ard again. Once, to 
definitely satisfy himself as to the whereabouts 
of the mountain he turned at right angles from 


188 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


his course and fought his way in a direction he 
believed to be south until the rough and rocky 
nature of the ground assured him that he was 
breasting the heights. Turning back he re- 
sumed his endeavors to find the camp. 

The snow fell steadily, with the wind blowing 
evenly from the west. Bub had often warned 
him that if lost he must halt and build a fire and 
calmly wait for someone to find him. He knew 
this was the reasonable thing to do. He had 
known of men who temporarily had gone insane 
because of the shock of finding themselves 
astray. He had no fear of this, as his 
failure to follow the rules of the woods 
and camp for the night was caused by 
the expectation that the men in searching 
for him might encounter the axeman. He 
was possessed of but one desire;, to reach his 
friends and deter them from roaming the woods 
so long as the storm continued. From what he 
had heard of the axeman, coupled with what he 
had learned during his stay in the man’s hiding- 
place, convinced him the unknown traveled 
abroad only when the falling snow would oblit- 
erate his tracks. This evidenced that the axe- 
man planned cunningly, feared detection and 
knew how to avoid it. As he reflected on the 
stranger’s words he realized he must have been 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE 189 


a man of culture before falling a victim to his 
obsession. 

This bit of retrospection was interrupted by 
a faint hollow sound, which stole to his ears 
through the apertures in the wind. He recog- 
nized the booming note instantly. It was the 
sound of an axe driven deep into standing wood. 
Halting he sought to gauge the distance between 
him and the chopper, but only a confusion of 
ideas resulted from his deliberations. It was 
south of him and instinct urged that he turn 
southeast, proceeding on the theory that the 
axeman was somewhere near the camp. 

Shifting his course he laboriously made his 
way towards the source of the dull, thudding 
blows and soon became conscious of a smooth, 
compact surface beneath his feet. He hardly 
dared to credit his good luck and yet he was 
positive he had blundered into the logging road. 
If so, his worries for the night were over. He 
followed the hard pathway and after testing it 
for several minutes ventured to remove his 
shoes. Now he made better speed and dared to 
break into a trot. But the road curved and as 
he found himself floundering about in a pile of 
dead branches and tops, left there by the swamp- 
ers, he changed his tactics, restrained his im- 
patience, and proceeded more cautiously. 


190 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


The sound of the axe ceased the moment he 
blindly plunged into the underbrush. But he 
was on the two-sled road, that was the n^ain 
thing. He would soon be at the camp. Then a 
chill struck to his heart as he wondered if by any 
chance he had entered the road south of the 
camp and was now making for the Squawtooth. 
Eeason told him this could not be for he had 
kept the mountain to his right. It was now di- 
rectly back of him. Already it had intervened 
to cut off the wind. His nerves, however, re- 
fused to be logical and insisted he might be 
wrong, that he was wrong. 

Then all fears and apprehensions vanished as 
he found himself facing several yellow holes in 
the darkness. Lights were burning in the 
cook’s camp and in the long bunk-house and each 
window was sending forth its guiding ray. 

With a feeble Hurrah,” he cast his shoes 
aside and at a staggering run hastened forward. 
He was conscious of men’s voices in the woods 
about him but he did not pause to advise 
them of his return. His one desire was to reach 
the cook’s camp, where food was to be had. 
Curiously, his thoughts now refused to dwell 
on his friend’s perturbation and he could only 
think of hot coffee. 

He fairly flung himself against the low door 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTURE 191 


of the cook^s camp, and as he lurched across 
the threshold Cub, white of face and wild of eye, 
gave a faint scream and toppled over backward 
from his stool. 

Without a word Stanley staggered to the table, 
where the supper still stood untasted, and began 
filling his plate with meat. 

‘‘Coffee!^’ he cried. ‘‘Hot and strong 

“Stanley Malcolm!’^ squealed Cub, rubbing 
his eyes to make sure he was not dreaming. 
‘ ‘ Good Lord ! It ^s Stan ! ^ ’ And rushing to the 
door he picked up a repeating rifle and rapidly 
discharged six shots, the string blending in one 
rippling detonation. 

Then he skipped back to the table and flung 
his arms about his friend’s neck, nearly knock- 
ing him from the bench and in a broken voice 
cried, “Oh, Stan! We didn’t know what to 
think. The men and Bub have been crazy. I 
wanted to go with them but they wouldn’t let 
me. I was half asleep when you came in. Can 
it be real that you’re back? Where have you 
been? What has happened? Why — ” 

“Go slow, old neighbor,” mumbled Stanley 
as Cub patted his head. ‘ ‘ I got a bad bump on 
my head. Knocked me out. Feel it. Like a 
nest of eggs, eh? Give me some coffee and I’ll 
be all right.” 


192 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


“Mercy me!’’ gasped Cub, gingerly caressing 
Stanley’s head. “Feels like a virgin growth of 
horns. They’d scale out five hundred feet 
apiece. Coffee? You shall have a barrel of it. 
I’ve been keeping it hot for the men. No one 
had thought of supper till you could be found.” 

“Everything seems cold,” murmured Stanley, 
as he tasted his meat. ‘ ‘ What time is it ? ” 

“Five o’clock of a stormy morning and Corn- 
wallis is taken,” triumphantly roared Cub, 
dancing to the stove for the coffee. *’ ‘ Hurrah ! 
The prodigal has returned. I can’f kill a fatted 
calf. In fact, after you’ve behaved in this 
fashion I think I’d raise the calf. But I can 
produce a pie — pies of every nationality. Here 
are mince and canned apple pies. Here are 
canned squash and canned punkin pies. Here is 
one made from Abner’s private stock of canned 
rhubarb.” As he rattled on in this manner the 
ridiculous fellow whipped an armful of pies 
from the table and grouped them about Stan- 
ley. 

“They wouldn’t let me quit the camp to help 
in the hunt,” panted Cub, “and to keep my mind 
within bounds I made pies. It was the only 
way I could make my nerves behave. Seems if 
I’d baked pies for a million years. Wade in. 
Have* a piece of each. Eat a whole one of each. 


AN UNEXPECTED ADVENTUEE 193 


Touch up Abner’s first as it will make him peev- 
ish.” 

‘‘Oh, Cub, Cub !” cried Stanley, laughing hys- 
terically to keep back the tears. “You’re the 
best fellow in the world. If ever I said you were 
a homely pup I take it all back. I never saw 
anyone look so everlastingly handsome as you 
do this minute. I will have a bit of Abner’s 
extra special pie. And some more coffee, 
please.” 

‘ ‘ The unblushing young sinner ! ’ ’ hoarsely de- 
nounced Abner’s voice from the doorway. 
“The ungrateful young varmint! He sneaks 
off into the woods to fret us up and then sneaks 
back here to eat an old man’s special pie when 
no one’s looking. Gim’me a axe helve, a pick- 
pole, or a peavey! Gim’me something hard as 
iron what will raise a ridge with every blow. 
Gim’me some rock-salt to rub into the raw 
places after I’ve finished with him! Drop that 
pie!” 

And wildly flinging his old arms about Stan- 
ley’s neck the veteran cruiser turned the plate 
upside down and slammed all of his rhubarb 
delicacy into the boy’s plate. Then he mum- 
bled, “There! Eat, ye pesky young hound!” 


CHAPTEE XI 


bub’s naerow escape 

Stanley quickly observed that no one dreamed 
of his having found shelter for the night. All 
took it for granted that he had lost his bear- 
ings and had spent the hours wandering about 
in the storm. Noisy Charlie and Foster over- 
whelmed him with greetings. Then the Indian, 
as though ashamed of his display of emotion, 
became cold and reserved and grumbled; 

Young Chief need strap. Git lost in wig- 
wam. Git lost in um bunk. ’ ’ 

Bub was the last to return, having cruised far 
south of Mt. Crow. The moment he entered 
the door and saw the men crowding about Stan- 
ley, congratulating and condemning him the 
tears started to his eyes. But he winked them 
back, smoothed out his face and inditferently 
remarked, ‘‘Hello, so you’re back, eh? Have 
a pleasant hike?” 

Stanley understood and extended a hand 
which Bub gripped powerfully. Hogan and the 
men came in and paid their respects, and as 
194 


A 


BUB’S NAEEOW ESCAPE 


195 


they had been up all night Abner ordered, ^^Let 
the men make up their sleep. If these young 
varmints can be kept at home mehhe we can do 
a little logging sometime.” Then sternly to 
Stanley, ‘‘Yer pleasure trip has cost the Great 
Northern half a day’s work and more per man. 
If yer uncle would send some more nephews up 
here there wouldn’t be a tap done between 
Christmas and Easter.” 

‘‘Nice way to talk to a fellow who’s been lost 
in the woods all night,” wrathfully exclaimed 
Bub. 

“Wal, he’s eating my best pie, aint he!” 
thundered Abner. “By ginger! it’s gitting so, 
Charlie, that young ’uns can lecture their elders. 
Guess we’d better hunt our blankets. Perhaps 
Mister Malcom will be safe now it’s growing 
daylight. ’ ’ 

As the men left for their hunks Cub sur- 
rendered to slumber and was soon breathing 
heavily in his hunk. Then Bub demanded, 
“Out with it, my son. You’ve had shelter. 
Your mackinaw isn’t wet enough for anyone 
who’s spent the night out doors. Your story 
about the bump sounds fishy. Noisy Charlie 
and Abner would have noticed something was 
wrong with your trail right quick if they hadn ’t 
been fighting so hard to keep down a show of 


196 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


affection. After theyVe chewed it over a bit 
theydl be asking some questions, I believe. As 
you didnT offer the full details you’d better 
decide just what you’ll tell.” 

^ ‘ I sha ’n ’t lie to them, ’ ’ replied Stanley. ‘ ‘ If 
Hogan and the men hadn ’t come in I might have 
told everything. By the way, did you hear any- 
one chopping during the night ? ’ ’ 

‘‘Sure. But I didn’t pay attention,” said 
Bub. “We were so worked up over your dis- 
appearance that we wouldn’t have been startled 
had a whole regiment of gray axemen shown 
up. Now for the yarn.” 

Stanley explained his purpose in leaving the 
camp. Bub heartily endorsed his desire to ver- 
ify Foster’s version of the lost trail, but inter- 
rupted him long enough to vehemently denounce 
his “sneaking off” alone. Stanley exonerated 
his doing so by reminding him that Abner would 
resent their embarking on any such errand. 
“Besides, I hated to take you away from him 
just as he ’d finished a twenty-mile cruise to have 
a chat with you. I had to go when I did, or 
miss my chance of finding the broken trail.” 

“Push ahead. Did you find it?” excitedly 
demanded Bub. 

Thoughtfully biting into a doughnut and 
keenly enjoying his friend’s impatience Stanley 


BUB^S NAEROW ESCAPE 


197 


refused to lose any of the dramatic values, and 
led up to the climax of his adventure in an 
orderly manner. When he reached the point 
where the violin music had reached his ears 
Bub’s jaw dropped in consternation. 

‘‘Say, old man, the blow on your head didn’t 
make you batty, eh?” he anxiously asked. 

Stanley grinned and dwelt at some length 
upon the incident of the music. Then he rushed 
forward to his accident, describing it as a fall. 
“Where I fell, or why I fell, is beyond my 
knowledge,” he added. “I simply know that 
my feet suddenly left the ground, and then there 
came a long red streak, a ripping, cracking 
noise — and that ’s all. When I woke up I was in 
a room lined with burlap bags and the axeman 
was seated before a fireplace — ” 

“Gee whittiker!” gasped Bub, his eyes glit- 
tering. “Oh, why couldn’t I have been in on 
that? I’ll never forgive you, Stan, for going 
off alone and hogging all the fun — ” 

“Fun?” groaned Stanley, ruefully rubbing 
his sore head. 

“Yes, fun,” sternly repeated Bub. “I’ll 
never forgive you unless you promise to keep 
mum about it and give me a chance to go 
there with you. We’ll clear up the mystery 
and — 


198 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘^Please wait till you hear the rest/’ advised 
Stanley. And he continued his recital. But if 
he expected Bub to change his mind because of 
the description of the axeman’s wilder moments 
he was sadly mistaken. It all served to whet 
the boy’s desire to encounter a similar adven- 
ture. 

“The first chance we have we’ll cruise for 
that place,” he enthusiastically declared. 

“But I don’t know where it is,” protested 
Stanley. 

“I can find it,” confidently assured Bub. 
“You have a general idea of the direction you 
took. It’s some little log cabin that you were 
carried into. I can find it. Not a word of this 
to either of the men. ’ ’ 

“But that’s hardly right,” remonstrated 
Stanley. “I don’t want the loggers to know, as 
it might send them scampering back to the 
Squawtooth. But it seems as if I ought to tell 
Abner, Foster and Charlie. This chap may 
break out and do someone mischief. If you’d 
seen the way in which he twirled that axe ! If 
you’d heard him muttering about stopping the 
men who crawl into the woods like ants and kill 
the forest ! My, but it was creepy ! ’ ’ 

“And to think I couldn’t have been there to 
hear it!” groaned Bub. “And to have seen 


BUB^S NAKROW ESCAPE 


199 


you playing the fiddle and quieting the man 
down! What is he? Who is he?’’ 

‘‘I don’t know,” sadly replied Stanley. 
‘‘He’s a man who loves the woods. He talks 
like a gentleman. His hand was soft and gen- 
tle when he doctored my head. But his eyes 
were very wild when he shifted into one of his 
tantrums. One thing is certain; he thinks it’s 
his duty to guard these woods and keep loggers 
out. He’s chopped down the trees liable to fall 
in a heavy blow. He did it as a bribe to induce 
the loggers to quit these parts. He told it all 
in talking to himself. Then lie got mighty 
angry and said the men must be kept out, at no 
matter what cost. And there you are ! ’ ’ 

“We’ll camp on his trail! We’ll unravel the 
mystery!” exulted Bub. 

“And in the meantime let the men run into 
danger of meeting him?” asked Stanley. 

Bub’s face fell. “Let’s compromise,” he 
suggested. ‘ ‘ By your own ‘ tell ’ this chap won ’t 
wander out unless it’s snowing. He may he 
crazy, but he’s shrewd enough and enough of a 
woodsman, to know the snow covers his tracks 
and prevents anyone trailing him. He also 
knows enough to steal supplies and keep warm 
and snug. Now, so long as the weather holds 
fair he won’t come around these parts. He’ll 


200 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


stay hived up in his little home, playing on the 
fiddle. lUs only when a storm is brewing that 
we Ve got to watch out for him. The men wonT 
work in a storm. We’ll call them in. We’re 
the bosses up here. It’s our job. Abner can 
visit us, but Hogan takes orders from you. 
There’ll be no danger to Charlie and Foster as 
they already know this man is nosing round 
the camp. They’ll keep cruising the woods and 
he ’ll keep concealed. Then we can take a little 
excursion up on the mountain, descend on the 
other side and spy on him. It ’ll be great ! ’ ’ 

Stanley shook his head. don’t want any 
more adventures like last night. But I’ll keep 
still so long as the weather holds fair. Of 
course if there’s a chance to solve the puzzle, 
learn who the poor man is and help him in some 
way I’m keen to do it. Now I’ve got to get 
some sleep. I’m dead tired.” 

It was some six hours later before Stanley 
opened his eyes and found the bunk-house de- 
serted. Hastening to wash and dress he hur- 
ried to the cook’s camp and discovered that the 
crew had eaten and had gone to work. Cub 
greeted him with a broad grin and after setting 
forth a tin basin of meat and potato he pro- 
duced a quarter of a rhubarb pie and informed, 
‘‘With the compliments of Abner Whitten, Es- 


BUB’S NAREOW ESCAPE 201 

quire. He says you might as well finish it, see- 
ing that you ate most of it this morning.” 

Stanley readily promised to oblige and 
learned that the crew were at work on the moun- 
tain, planning to haul the logs from the upper 
yard. 

‘‘With that yard snaked down to the level 
the rest of the work will be easy,” wisely ex- 
plained Cub. “I’m willing to give you all the 
pointers I can, as youVe been away from camp 
on a pleasure junket and must have lost run of 
things.” 

“Bosh I” laughed Stanley. “How are the 
men feeling?” 

“Mighty solemn,” replied Cub, now genu- 
inely sober. “Hogan keeps the heart in them, 
but they’re uneasy. They got an awful scare 
when you failed to show up yesterday. The 
Frenchman was positive you’d been made way 
with by this fellow who lumbers at night. Then 
this morning Pudgy Williams took a scoot to- 
wards the mountain and came back to report 
two trees had been felled across the pitch lead- 
ing up the first slope. Charlie and Foster don ’t 
like the way things happen. That lost trail has 
thrown them all out of gear. If it wasn’t for 
us fellows they’d turn their backs to Mt. Crow 
and never stop cruising till they’d struck the 


202 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Squawtooth. Abner, as representative of the 
company, poob-poolis their notions, but he’d 
much rather be somewhere else. Guess they’re 
kind of ashamed to quit the job, though, while 
we’re willing to stick.” 

We ’ll stick till it’s finished,” stoutly as- 
sured Stanley. ‘ ‘ Did Bub go with the men 1 ’ ’ 

Cub nodded, and regretfully added, ‘‘Some- 
times I wish I didn’t know how to cook. It 
keeps me penned up here.” 

Stanley did not pause to comfort him. He 
suddenly feared that Bub was imitating his ex- 
ample and had set out to find the axeman. His 
apprehensions were not allayed until he reached 
the first slope and found the men clearing away 
the last of the axeman’s barrier and heard his 
friend’s cheery voice teasing the Frenchman 
into mixing up the genders in a wild splutter 
of protestations. 

The moment Abner caught a glimpse of Stan- 
ley his beard began to bristle and in a severe 
tone he ordered, “Ye kindly keep to my heels, 
young man. Don’t wander into the bushes or 
ye ’ll git lost. When we have more time there ’s 
several p’ints Charlie, Foster and me want to 
question ye about. We haven’t decided yet 
what took ye off to the woods.” 

Bub winked slyly over his kinsman’s shoul- 


BUB^S NAEROW ESCAPE 


203 


der and averted any queries along this line by 
asking, we tackle the upper landing first, 
or shall we haul down the logs at the top of this 
first pitch r’ 

‘^Better clean up as we go,” puffed Hogan. 
“Make sure of the darlings at the top of the rise, 
or we’ll find this bit of road mussed up with 
widder makers and snags again.” 

He spoke with a tone of raillery but the men 
eyed each other askance. They refused to be- 
lieve it was all a joke. They did not mind the 
extra labor enforced by the gray axeman’s ac- 
tivities, but they were beginning to fear some 
overt attack each time his axe was heard boom- 
ing mellowly through the night. The very fact 
that he felled trees at night appealed to their 
professional instinct as being abnormal. Such 
a thing had never been known before in all the 
North Woods. 

Hogan, reading their minds, quickly spurred 
them on to bring up the horses and sled and 
deaden the pitch with hay and boughs. It was 
the first slope the boys had equipped with a 
snub-line and Stanley was eager to see how the 
logs would be brought down. Once their minds 
were occupied with the wonted tasks the loggers 
were all enthusiasm. They approached the 
dangerous labor as though it were nothing. 


204 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Their demeanor in this contrasted sharply with 
their dread of the invisible axeman. 

After the sleds had been dragged to the top 
of the incline ten big logs were loaded to the 
accompaniment of much talking, crying out of 
orders, all punctuated by the picturesque jargon 
of Dusette. Now Stanley had an opportunity 
of observing how the unwieldy logs were speed- 
ily rolled on to the bunks of the sleds. Sharp 
spikes, set upright in the bunks, held the logs 
in place. Abn.er advised that only a bunk-load 
be taken, meaning a load of only one log deep. 
But Hogan, realizing the men were eager to 
finish on the mountain, demurred, ‘‘No bunk- 
loads, Abner dear. Sure it^s a short haul and 
as gentle as sliding off a roof. Top load, my 
sons. Up with them.’’ 

That this met with the men’s approval was 
quickly seen by their energetic endeavors to 
complete the towering mass before Abner could 
order to the contrary. At last Hogan called 
a halt and adjusted the toggle chain and hook, 
thus regulating the length of the binding chain, 
and ordered a teamster to take the lines. The 
teamster briefly inspected the hawser now 
wound round the stump and leaped upon the 
load. 

His perch looked very precarious to Stanley 


BUB^S NAEKOW ESCAPE 


205 


as he watched the man brace his feet and then 
allow his body to sway as the sleds started for- 
ward with the huge mass of logs creaking and 
groaning. The horses pricked up their ears, 
well knowing they were in a position of danger 
and might expect at any moment to hear the 
driver cry out for them to race for their lives. 

Slowly the hawser unwound from the stump 
and with careful steps the intelligent animals 
picked their way down the slope. The hay and 
boughs caused the sled-runners to groan and 
drag, thus holding back the load. 

‘‘Bat wan good driver,’’ cried Pierre admir- 
ingly. ^ ‘ She listen with heem feet. ’ ’ 

In spite of the ambiguity of the remark Stan- 
ley mentally accepted it. The man depended 
upon his feet to tell him of the least alien jar. 
As he swayed easily back and forth, his body 
following the sagging and giving of the logs, his 
mind was intensely centered on his feet. The 
slightest unusual thrill would register there and 
instantly be telegraphed to the man’s mind. 
But no accident happened and the load reached 
the lower level after a few minutes of painful 
suspense. Here the second set of sleds was 
waiting on a turn-out to mount the slope. 
Ordinarily the loaded sled would have passed 
on to the landing some distance beyond the 


206 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


camp, but Hogan, ever mindful of his crew’s 
dislike for the mountain, called out to the sled- 
tender to have the logs dumped in a large yard 
near the camp and for the driver to return for 
another load. 

^Ht makes us handle the stuff an extry time, 
honey,” he murmured to Stanley, ‘^but it’s hard 
work to keep the men on the job so long as we 
play round this spot. They’ll be all right on 
the level, but up here they feel as if they was too 
neighborly to that spalpeen of a gray axeman. 
I’ll laugh in his face if I can clear this cant of 
logs. ’ ’ 

The second sleds were quickly loaded, the men 
now working in silence as if anxious to finish 
with the task. While this was being done other 
men were sent on up the slope to throw down 
hay and brush and to carry the extra long haw- 
ser to the top of the upper incline. Stanley 
preferred to watch the men snake out the logs 
and did not ascend to the second rise until the 
sleds began the stiff ascent. As there were no 
logs yarded here the team kept on until it 
reached the upper yard. 

The men looked down the winding road, their 
faces grave and set. It was a wicked place and 
should the hawser break it was almost certain 
death to the horses, possibly to the driver. 


BUB’S NAEROW ESCAPE 


207 


Charlie, a silent spectator till now, shook his 
head savagely and muttered. ^‘No like um. 
Bad medicine.” 

‘‘It’s nothing, ’ ’ j eered Bub. “ I ’ve seen them 
snub a team down a slope a lot steeper and 
longer than this one.” 

“Young Fox very wise. He see-um lot more 
than poor Injun, ’ ’ ironically retorted Charlie. 

Bub reddened and glanced about to see if 
Abner was in sight. His kinsman was down 
below, waiting at the second incline, and a fool- 
ish resolve took possession of the boy. The In- 
dian obviously thought he did not appreciate 
the dangers of the incline. He would teach 
him the contrary by driving down the first load. 
He was used to horses and many a time had 
guided a team over a rough stretch. He 
chuckled as he pictured Stanley’s amazement 
on beholding him perched on top of the logs. 

This time the men used particular pains in 
loading the logs, and Hogan announced he would 
help handle the snub-line, selecting Pudgy Wil- 
liams to assist him. This alone evidenced the 
gravity of the task. Bub waited till thejbinding 
chain had been finally adjusted and Hogan had 
made fast the hawser and had pulled on his 
thick leather mittens to pay out the slack. 
Then scrambling like a squirrel to the top of the 


208 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


load lie picked up the lines and whip and clucked 
to the horses. 

‘^Bub! Bub!” yelled Stanley. ‘‘Get down! 
Jump off!” 

Hogan glanced up and his face grew pale with 
fear and anger. The sleds were just creaking 
over the dip and he could not leave his posi- 
tion. The regular driver stood irresolute, gap- 
ing at the load as it took the incline. 

“Keep still!” cried Hogan. “May the 
saints protect him! DonT distract his atten- 
tion.” 

And Bub, feet firmly braced, his body sway- 
ing gracefully, his teeth clinched, looked neither 
to right nor to left, but stared straight ahead, 
holding the whip half raised and counting the 
inches before him. It was much steeper than he 
had anticipated. From his perilous perch it 
seemed miles to the level strip between him and 
the second incline. He prayed the rope would 
hold and mentally promised that if all went well 
he would never tool another parcel of logs down 
a mountain-side. The men, taking their cue 
from Hogan, became silent, their eyes focused 
on the slim figure so sharply outlined against 
the sky. Stanley hardly dared to breathe as 
he waited for the descent to he finished. 

Then there came the faint snap of a parting 


BUB^S NAEEOW ESCAPE 


209 


strand and the horrified boy beheld the hawser 
separating, the strands springing loose with the 
rapidity of a watch-spring when it is released. 
At the same moment Hogan gave a warning yell 
and drove the peavy into the coils to check the 
sleds long enough for the boy to leap to safety. 

But in unison with Hogan’s warning cry 
Bub raised his whip and cracked it over the 
horses. Forward they leaped into their col- 
lars, knowing the worst had come. As they 
dashed downward the hawser became two 
pieces, the sleds began bounding and swaying 
wildly. Bub was now bending forward, his legs 
half-bowed, much like a bareback rider in a 
circus. The astounded Abner, on hearing the 
cry, glanced up and leaped to one side. Then 
he recognized the driver and his heart seemed 
to contract to a breaking-point. 

‘‘Jump!” his parched throat managed to 
shout as the maddened animals shot by him, 
but Bub held to the lines, his eyes focused on 
the rough roadway. The Indian came bound- 
ing like a deer down the road, possibly intent 
on gaining the rear of the load and hurling his 
young friend into the deep snow, but the sleds 
were now moving at a terrific speed. The hay 
and boughs, so far as Stanley could observe, of- 
fered no hindrance whatever. 


210 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


The most dangerous point in the incline was 
the turn half way down. This had been banked 
high but none of the loggers believed it would 
keep a runaway sled from slewing and tipping 
over. As the horses struck this point one 
slipped for the fraction of a second, but Bub 
lifted hard on the lines at the same instant, and 
the frightened brute managed to keep his feet. 
The last Stanley saw of his friend was when he 
took the turn, his body inclined inward at a 
sharp angle. Then the entire crew rushed down 
the slope, expecting to behold the worst. 

‘ ^ He ^s done the trick ! ’ ’ sobbed Stanley as he 
gained the turn and beheld the team slowing 
down on the level stretch, their sides lathered 
to a foam, and Bub sitting limply on the load. 


CHAPTER XII 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 

“Ba golly! She ride dat log lak’ he ban wan 
squirrel!’’ gasped Pierre, moping the nervous 
sweat from his face. 

“He did it!” exclaimed Stanley, eyeing Bub 
with awe and admiration. “Talk about Ben- 
Hur in the chariot race! I’ve seen lots of cir- 
cuses but never anything like that. ’ ’ 

But Abner had no praise for his headstrong 
kinsman. He stood perfectly motionless, once 
he saw the boy was safe. Then he turned and 
walked back up the slope as if wishing to be 
alone, when he might erase the dramatic scene 
from his mind. 

“Honey, you handled them like a veteran,” 
cried Hogan, shaking Bub warmly by the hand. 
“You sure saved the bosses, darling. I 
wouldn’t give a Canadian copper for them when 
I heard the line break. ’ ’ 

“Guess we’d better investigate that same 
line,” ominously spoke up Pudgy Williams. 
“Guess we’ll find that the danged axeman is 
211 


212 THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

trying to ring another kind of a widder-maker 
on us.^’ 

‘‘It^s gitting too fierce for me,” loudly de- 
clared a chopper. ‘‘I can stand my chances in 
white water or in the woods with the next man, 
but when ha’nts git busy and lay traps for you 
it^s time to quit.” 

‘‘That^s the talk!” growled the others, throw- 
ing down their axes and peavies and approach- 
ing Hogan. 

“You cowards!” rasped Hogan, his blue eyes 
filled with a fighting light. “To think IVe 
fetched you way up here to have you turn tail 
to a shadder!” 

“Aye, that’s just it,” resolutely declared the 
chopper. “It’s a shadder. I never heard of 
anyone putting up a fight ag’in a shadder. Let 
Bully Crouse’s gang jump us, let a boom bust 
in freshet water, and I’m there with both feet. 
But I ain’t got no truck with shadders. I want 
my time. I’ll go back to the Squawtooth and 
work, or I’ll gun for a job with some other 
operator. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Man talk like child, ’ ’ grunted Charlie. “No 
hear-um boys make squaw talk. ’ ’ 

“Sapre!” cried the voluble Frenchman. 
“Ma wife he ver’ sorry I git hurt. She wan’ 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 213 


me to come home. I better find bonder dollar 
den quit, but I tak’ ma time and go.’’ 

‘^Like the rest of them, ehU’ growled Hogan. 
‘‘Then may the devil fly away with you all! 
You’ll git no time from me. Skiddoo to the 
Squawtooth and git your time ! ’ ’ 

“Hold on a second,” quietly spoke up Stan- 
ley, who had been busy examining the hawser. 
“If you men are satisfied no one has cut the 
hawser and that the accident was a natural one, 
will you stay?” 

“That’s a boss of another gait,” mumbled 
Williams. “I ain’t making back tracks be- 
cause of a natural accident. I expect to meet 
up with ’em. What can you show?” 

“If you look at these broken strands you’ll 
feel satisfied, I’m sure, that nothing has cut 
them. Possibly a wood-mouse gnawed through 
one or two. Perhaps it ripped out on a limb or 
a stump. But if it had been cut we’d find some 
of the strands cleanly severed. That isn’t the 
case.” 

Noisy Charlie eagerly seized the line and ex- 
amined it carefully. When he had finished he 
passed it to Williams and laconically said, “No 
cut. Young Chief talk straight like man. Bad 
spirit no hurt-um rope.” 


214 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Den I stay lak’ I ban here all ma life,” read- 
ily recanted the Frenchman. “Pierre Dusette 
ban scared of netting.” And he threw out his 
chest and swaggered importantly until Bub 
cried “Bool” behind him and caused him to 
jump wildly. 

Hogan, realizing Stanley had won the men 
back to a more reasonable frame of mind, 
quickly took advantage of the fact and with his 
usual blarney soon had the crew ready to go 
on with the logging. While they were waiting 
for Williams to bring a new hawser Bub went 
in search of Abner. He expected the veteran 
cruiser would upbraid him severely and he was 
prepared to be very penitent. He found Abner 
seated beneath a big beech, staring otf across 
the forest below. His old face was sad and his 
mouth drawn down. 

It all affected Bub more deeply than would 
any outburst of anger. Quietly joining Abner 
he sat down beside him and clumsily patted the 
bowed shoulder. “Honest, Abner, I’m sorry,” 
he muttered. “I didn’t realize what was to 
happen. Once it started I had to go through 
with it.” 

“Inside of twenty-four hours I’ve nearly lost 
two of my boys,” wearily said Abner, speaking 
to himself. “The woods gather a big toll, but 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 215 

I never thought the woods would come so near 
gitting one of the boys/’ 

‘^But it hasn’t, it won’t,” eagerly assured 
Bub. Let’s call it quits. If you say the word 
I’ll put on an apron and stay in the cook’s camp 
with Cub.” 

‘^Bubby, Bubby,” groaned Abner, his thin 
face wrinkling with horror and his hands work- 
ing convulsively, ‘ 4f ye only knew what it means 
to stand helpless by and see yer only kin on 
the verge of death! I’m an old man. I can’t 
stand many such shocks.” 

Completely subdued and heartily penitent. 
Bub renewed his promises, and at last succeeded 
in lifting the cloud from the cruiser’s face. 
ain’t going to give ye any more orders,” said 
Abner. ^^Ye must live yer own life and do 
what ye think is fit and proper. ’ ’ 

‘^But I want to make promises, ” humbly cried 
Bub. ‘H’ll never drive another load of logs 
unless you tell me to.” 

‘‘We’ll say no more about it,” softly said 
Abner, patting the boy’s shoulder. “Thank 
God no harm come of it. And I’ll confess I feel 
a bit proud that ye stuck to the load and saved 
the bosses. But I never want to see ye do it 
again.” 

The men now came cheerily up the slope, 


216 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


fetching the new hawser, and soon Pudgy Wil- 
liams was calmly driving the horses down the 
grade as unconcerned as though a tragedy had 
not been narrowly averted only a short time 
since. Bub was for returning to camp but 
Stanley advised that they remain with the men, 
believing their presence might help to keep the 
crew from dwelling on the axeman. For he 
knew that should anything out of the ordinary 
happen it would require all his logic and power 
of persuasion to prevent the men from desert- 
ing the camp in a body. 

‘ ^ Then let ’s get some spruce gum while we Te 
waiting around, ’ ^ suggested Bub. ‘ ‘ Guess how 
much gum is supposed to have been shipped out 
of the State last yearU’ 

‘‘Not being a regular industry I guess there 
arenT any figures to be had. I’d say possibly 
a hundred pounds. ’ ’ 

Bub chuckled delightedly, and corrected, 
“You came within fourteen thousand, nine hun- 
dred pounds, my son. ’ ’ 

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Stanley. 

“But yes,” persisted Bub. “The spruce 
gum trade is a good paying proposition.” 

“Then why didn’t we try it when planning to 
help Cub earn money for college? We tackled 
ginseng and trapping — ^why not the gum?” 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 217 


‘‘We would have if it had been March,’’ re- 
plied Bub. “That’s the best time. There’s al- 
ways a good crust in March and the gum is 
easily gathered. Last spring the best gum was 
quoted at two dollars a pound and the seam gum 
at one dollar. Before that, the price was one- 
fifty for the best and seventy-five cents for the 
second grade. ’ ’ 

Stanley’s eyes sparkled. While he was not 
in need of money it pleased him to discover new 
assets in the big woods. To receive from na- 
ture direct some gift which could he utilized for 
comfort, let alone the spice of adventure accom- 
panying each endeavor, impressed him as a 
wonderful thing. As Bub explained he felt 
much the same enthusiasm as he had when find- 
ing his first fresh-water pearls. 

“How much could a fellow get in a day!” he 
inquired. 

“Oh, from two to three pounds. With the 
gum thick and in a stand of spruce that never 
had been worked he might get ten pounds. I’ve 
gathered twelve pounds between sun-up and 
sunset.” 

“Gee! But I’d like to try itl” murmured 
Stanley. “Must be tough climbing, though.” 

“You don’t climb,” explained Bub. “You 
use a fifteen-foot pole with a chisel and a small 


218 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


bag on the end. After you’ve developed a ‘gum 
eye’ you’ll spot a nugget of pure gum high on 
the tree. Then you lift the pole till the chisel 
is under it and with a shove shave it otf. It 
drops in the bag or at your feet, and there you 
are. Lots of fellows make big wages gumming 
in March. There ’s a fascination about it, much 
like gold-digging, I guess, only cleaner. You 
don’t know when you start out in the morning 
whether you’re goings to get half a pound or 
ten. You may strike a regular gum mine and 
clean up ten or fifteen dollars in one clump of 
spruce. Then again, you may find nothing but 
seam gum, which must be thoroughly cleaned. 
The time of year also helps out. March in the 
big woods is usually a delightful month. 
Among the trees you can’t feel the wind. The 
sun is getting high, the walking is good, and the 
feel of spring is in the air to make you feel 
kinky. ’ ’ 

“Sometime I’m going to have that experi- 
ence,” declared Stanley, whipping out his 
knife and digging a big translucent lump from 
the trunk of a large spruce. Removing a bit 
of bark he began chewing it and found he had a 
large ‘cud’ of beautifully pink, clean gum, con- 
taining the aroma of the forest. Enthusiastic 
over his success he searched for another lump. 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 219 


‘‘Here’s a peach!” he gloated, carefully cut- 
ting out a large lump. “It isn’t as hard as 
the other. I suppose the softer it is the fresher 
it is, eh?” 

Bub made no reply but grinned joyfully as 
Stanley exchanged cuds. After a few move- 
ments of his jaw a puzzled look crept over his 
face. Then he frowned and sought to remove 
the gum. But it clung to his teeth most tena- 
ciously and Bub gleefully informed him he was 
chewing pitch. “Which should teach you, my 
son, that all is not spruce gum that oozes from 
a tree. And don’t try to find soft lumps.” 

While Stanley was ruefully cleaning his 
mouth and regretting he had thrown the first 
cud away. Bub informed that there is a ready 
market for all gum dug, and added that, with 
the exception of people living in the northern 
tier of states, few persons know what pure 
spruce gum is. 

“But you just said some fifteen thousand 
pounds are shipped out of the State in a single 
year,” remonstrated Stanley. “Doesn’t any 
of it sell down south!” 

“The most of it is used by big manufacturers 
of flavored gum as a base,” replied Bub. 
“There’s nothing else like it. You are chewing 
it when you chew any of the good gums. Of 


220 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


course they flavor it and put in other stuff, so 
you don’t recognize it. The pure spruce is the 
best, hut it would cost too much unless you dug 
it yourself.” 

Gathering a pocketful of lumps for Cub and 
the men, the boys returned to the incline to find 
the men quitting work for the day. It was near 
sundown and Hogan wisely avoided the danger 
of having the crew stampede in case the axe- 
man should appear or make any demonstration. 
That the men were nervous was shown when 
Hogan asked Williams to return alone to the 
upper yard and bring down the hawser. 

‘H’d feel better if it was at the camp. A 
wood-mouse might take a lunch off’n it,” he 
said. 

Williams looked very grave and hesitated. 
Finally he mumbled, ‘ ‘ Oh, the line ’ll be all right. 
I ’ll take a chance nothing will happen to it. I ’m 
tired.” 

‘H’ll go back,” quickly volunteered Bub. 

But Abner’s hand closed on his shoulder, re- 
straining him, and the veteran quietly said, 
‘‘Ye’ll go straight to the camp, lad. So will 
Stanley. I haven’t been working and I’m 
fresh. I’ll go.” 

“Me go with Old Fox,” grunted Charlie, 
glancing back at the slope with frowning eyes. 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 221 


Foster turned silently to accompany them, 
although the boys knew none of the three rel- 
ished the trip. The declining sun already had 
bestowed its parting rays on the forest tops of 
the lowlands and was slowly withdrawing its 
shafts of golden light from the top of the moun- 
tain when the men paused at the upper landing 
and coiled up the big hawser. 

‘‘Looks gloomy down below,’’ observed Fos- 
ter in a low voice. 

“Soon be night,” muttered the Indian. 

“Guess we’d better hustle or them men will 
eat up all the grub,” advised Abner. “That 
Frenchman’s the biggest feeder I ever see. I 
won’t hire him another year less he kills off 
some of his appetite.” With this excuse for 
hastening homeward, Abner turned to lead the 
way, when the Indian halted him with a touch 
on the shoulder, aud murmured; 

“Stop! Hear-um queer sound. Like-um 
talking-box boys make-um talk at old trapper’s 
cabin. ’ ’ 

Foster and Abner exchanged startled glances. 
From somewhere above them floated the strains 
of beautiful music, seemingly to come from the 
sky. The old trapper half raised his rifle, 
but the Indian gestured for him to be quies- 
cent. 


222 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘‘Good spirit come to scare bad spirit away,’^ 
he muttered. 

“It’s fiddle music, Abner,” whispered Foster. 

The music ceased and without attempting to 
learn the whereabouts of the musician the three 
stole down the slope. Charlie was firm in his 
belief that the strains emanated from the sky 
and denied the likelihood of human agency. 
His friends knew it was the hand of a master 
musician, but it seemed so unreal, so all out of 
place that they shared the awe of their un- 
sophisticated companion. 

“Don’t say nothing to the younkers,” warned 
Abner. “Or they’ll be sneaking up here to in- 
vestigate.” 

“Good spirit no hurt-um,” confidently as- 
sured Charlie. 

“Bad spirits sometimes fix up to look and 
sound like good spirits,” reminded Abner. 
This remark caused the Indian to shiver. His 
imaginative mind quickly conjured up a demon, 
disguised as a beneficent spirit, and waiting on 
the lonely mountain to decoy some poor mortal 
into his clutches. His small black eyes glittered 
with concern as he cast a backward glance over 
his brawny shoulder and quickened his pace. 

When they reached the camp they lost no time 
in removing their outer wraps and repairing 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 223 


to the cook’s camp, where the men and boys 
were all ready to pounce upon the tins of light 
biscuit. As Cub proudly pulled them from the 
oven he informed Abner, waited till the 
crew arrived so as to have them just right. 
They’ve baked just twelve minutes. I hadn’t 
finished mixing the dough when Stanley and 
Bub blew in. Quick work, eh ?’ ’ 

‘ ^ That ’s the way biscuit should be mixed and 
cooked, ’ ’ heartily approved Abner, seating him- 
self and pouring out a tin dipper of tea. ^‘I 
can make my supper anytime off’n biscuit and 
tea — providing they’re both just right.” 

‘‘After supper I’ll pass around some elegant 
spruce gTim, the donation of Mister Malcolm 
and Mister Thomas,” added Cub. “We’ll call 
that dessert. ’ ’ 

“Ba golly I better have dat spruce gum den 
break ma leg,” cried Pierre. 

The appetizing supper banished all disagree- 
able thoughts from Abner’s mind and with a 
loving glance at the boys he placed half a bis- 
^ cuit in his mouth and began chewing. To the 
boys’ surprise the veteran’s eyes opened very 
wide as though he were laboring under some 
disturbing emotion and he glared wolfishly 
about the table. To their consternation Pierre 
was tearing at his mouth in a frenzied fashion 


224 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


while Noisy Charlie sat bent far forward, ut- 
tering deep guttural sounds. 

‘‘Are they all crazy T’ gasped Cub. 

‘ ‘ They act as though they wanted to talk and 
couldn’t,” exclaimed Stanley. 

“Dang bis-nogoo-” gurgled Abner. 

“He says the ‘danged biscuit are no good’ I” 
cried the amazed Biib. 

“Ugh!” ejaculated the Indian, clearing his 
mouth. “Bread make-um jaws stick fast like 
teeth of weasel. Boy put bad medicine in 
um.” 

“What in sm be ye trying to do to me?” 
gasped Abner, now very red of face and able 
to express his indignation. “Think I want to 
eat biscuit what’s made of glue?” 

“Them’s trick biscuit,” bitterly denounced 
Foster, spitting out a hard lump. 

“Those are the best biscuit I ever made,” 
hotly insisted Cub. “And I won’t have them 
abused. The trouble with you folks is that you 
don’t know good food when you eat it. Here 
I slave and slave and cook dainties — ” 

“Ha! ha!” howled Bub, throwing half a bis- 
cuit at the indignant cook. “Take that dainty 
from me and frame it. What did you find in 
yours, Stan?” 

“Gum!” roared Stanley, fishing out a moist. 


THE MUSIC ON THE MOUNTAIN 225 


tenacious lump. ‘‘He mixed the gum into the 
dough. 

With a cry of dismay Cub searched for the 
gum. It had disappeared. He had placed it 
on a low shelf over the dough and by some acci- 
dent had overturned it at the last moment. 
Hurrying to complete the batch by the time 
Abner should arrive he had not noticed the 
presence of the various lumps. Whoever had 
bitten onto a cud of gum had found his teeth 
stuck together. 

“Ye’re a pretty biscuit-maker, ye be,” 
snorted Abner, glaring at the red-faced cook. 

“He promised to pass the gum for dessert,” 
reminded Stanley. “He was simply saving 
time.” 

“Quit your kidding,” groaned Cub. “Mis- 
takes will happen with the best biscuit. If 
you’ll be decent I’ll have them send up a fiddle 
from the Squawtooth camp by the first tote 
team — ” 

“No want-um boy make fiddle music. Bad 
medicine,” hurriedly broke in Charlie, turning 
to gaze from the window. 

“We don’t care for any fiddling,” shortly 
added Foster. 

“We’re up here to work,” glumly said Ab- 
ner, avoiding Bub’s questioning gaze by pre- 


226 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


tending to examine his tea in search of strange 
articles. 

‘‘What do you make of thatU^ whispered 
Stanley. 

“I’ll bet they’ve heard the axeman playing 
on his violin,” shrewdly replied Bub. “If so, 
they’ve agreed to say nothing about it to us.” 


CHAPTER XIII 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 

Work progressed rapidly on the mountain for 
several days without any eventful happening. 
The boys still had in mind an excursion to the 
back side of the mountain but kept their plans 
to themselves. Abner and his two friends also 
were entertaining a similar expedition, now in- 
tent on solving the mystery of the music. Had 
Stanley told them of his experience with the 
axeman all would have been clear. His silence 
on the subject caused the boys and their pro- 
tectors to play at cross-purposes. The third 
faction in the camp consisted of the crew with 
Hogan spurring them on to deplete the upper 
landing before they could take fright at some 
mysterious happening and refuse to work 
longer. 

One morning, after Abner had departed, 
loudly extolling one of his hams which Cub had 
boiled much to his liking. Bub and Stanley hap- 
pened to be in the bunk-house after all the men 
had set out for work. As they stood by the 
227 


228 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


small window they observed Cub wander forth 
through the opening, enjoying a bit of leisure 
after the rush of the breakfast hour. Just as 
they were about to step out into the dingle and 
make off after the men they noticed Pierre 
approaching the cook^s camp in a manner 
that attracted their attention. Instead of 
walking boldly and singing a song of his na- 
tive Canada, as was his custom, he advanced 
in a zig-zag manner that caused Bub to specu- 
late. 

‘‘What’s the matter with him? He acts as if 
he didn’t want to be seen.” 

“He’s taking advantage of every clump of 
trees,” mused Stanley. “He’s making for the 
kitchen.” 

Deeply interested and slightly amused, for the 
erratic Pierre was a source of never failing de- 
light to them, they waited for developments. 
The Frenchman halted near the cook’s camp, 
standing behind a big spruce, and attempted to 
peer into the window. Then he caught a 
glimpse of Cub strolling down the logging road, 
and his dark face lighted in triumph. Casting 
a glance about to see that no one was observing 
him he darted quickly into the camp. Stanley 
stepped forward to run through the dingle and 
follow him; but Bub restrained him, saying. 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 229 

“What goes in must come out. He canT be up 
to anything very serious.’’ 

They waited a few moments and then the 
door of the camp slyly opened and Pierre cast a 
swift glance about the clearing. Deciding he 
had the premises to himself he boldly emerged, 
carrying something in his hand. 

“Gee whiz!” gasped Bub, choking back a 
laugh. “ He ’s got Abner ’s pet ham. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ Shall we hold him up ! ” queried Stanley. 

“No, no. He cam’t eat it. Let’s wait and 
see where he hides it,” whispered Bub. 

For a moment they feared the Frenchman 
would discover them, as he took several hesitat- 
ing steps toward the bunk-room. Then he 
seemed to decide that would be an insecure place 
of concealment, and he paused and with much 
uncertainty of manner gazed swiftly about. 
Now that he had stolen the ham he did not know 
what to do with it. Finally his gaze rested on 
the low-hanging branches of the spruce, which 
stood near the camp. His eyes lighted and he 
showed all his teeth in a broad grin. A portion 
of a minute sufficed for him to swarm up through 
the branches. He did not pause till he had 
reached the top of the spruce, where his loot 
would be out of sight. There he busied him- 
self for a few seconds, making the ham fast. 


230 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Then he descended, swept his gaze about the 
clearing carefully, and made off to the woods. 

‘‘Now we have a fine chance to puzzle M’sieu 
Pierre Dusette,’^ cried Stanley. “How shall 
we work it? We could get the ham and carve 
it down to a tiny one. Perhaps he would think 
it had shrunk.” 

This did not appeal to Bub. “We’d have to 
climb the tree twice, working as hard as the 
thief. Then he’d miss the joke, thinking some 
creature had eaten it. No, let’s catch him in 
his own trap. Pierre is harmless but he can’t 
resist being light-fingered when it comes to 
grub. Leave a hundred dollars behind you and 
he’d bring it back. But a ham seems to be be- 
yond his power of resisting. Huh ! I have it ! ” 

Stanley followed his friend closely, eager to 
watch his scheme develop. Bub procured an 
axe and a cross-cut saw. First he undercut the 
tree sufficient to direct its fall and then mo- 
tioned Stanley to assist with the saw. 

“Going to saw it down?” puzzled Stanley, 
holding back. “That strikes me as a poor 
joke.” 

“We’ll only prepare it for a quick fall,” ex- 
plained Bub. “There’s no wind and we’ll sim^ 
ply saw part way through and leave it so that 
a few deep blows from the axe will topple it 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


231 


over. Then well wait till Pierre goes up to get 
a bite from his treasure and chop him down.’^ 

‘^But hell get hurt,” expostulated Stanley, 
not relishing the plan. 

‘‘Hurt? Nonsense,” jeered Bub. “Didn’t 
you ever climb up in a tree top and ride down 
when they fell it? He won’t get hurt. The 
minute he hears and feels the axe he’ll shift to 
the upper side. He ’ll know we ’re not going to 
drop it on top of the camp. He won’t make 
a yip, for he’ll be sadly muddled. Then with 
the crowd gathering round we’ll expose him and 
the ham. That will teach him a lesson.” 

“If there’s no danger I’m ready,” agreed 
Stanley. 

A few minutes’ work satisfied Bub and he re- 
turned with the saw and axe. During the day 
they kept with the crew on the mountain, watch- 
ing load after load creep down the dangerous 
slope. No accident happened and by late after- 
noon they could see that the yard had been 
sharply diminished. 

As they washed for supper Cub bustled up to 
them and sadly informed Abner, “I’m very 
sorry to disappoint you, Abner, about your sup- 
per — ” 

“Don’t feel cut up,” kindly broke in Abner, 
combing hi^ beard, “Just five 9V sis slices of 


232 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


that ham will be all I’ll want — and some baked 
potato, biscuit — gumless ones, mind ye — and a 
pot of tea. ’ ’ 

‘^That’s just the point,” said Cub. ‘‘The 
ham has disappeared.” 

“Whatr’ gasped Abner, the expression on 
his face giving the impression he had lost a dear 
friend. ‘ ‘ That ham gone ? It can ’t be. ’ ’ 

“Gone,” gloomily assured Cub. “I’ve 
searched the camp for over an hour. Either 
someone stole it, a wild animal or the axe- 
man — ” 

“Keep shut about the axeman,” hastily broke 
in Abner. “It’s bad enough to lose a prime 
ham without gitting the crew scared into fits 
by speaking of that critter. Say nothing to no 
one. It’s hard, bitter hard, but I must bear up 
under it.” 

“Bad medicine,” grunted Charlie, who had 
been a stolid listener. 

Stanley and Bub retained their composure by 
an effort and filed in to supper. There was 
plenty of meat and beans and pork, but Abner, 
although refusing none of these victuals, seemed 
deeply dejected. Every few minutes he would 
groan aloud and roll his eyes upward. Pierre, 
at the other end of the table, chattered in broken 
English more rapidly than ever, his keen eyes 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


233 


searching the different faces in an effort to dis- 
cover if the theft had been noticed. He decided 
that it had not been and a smile of satisfaction 
swept over his face each time he allowed his 
gaze to wander to the window and dwell on the 
sturdy branches of the lone spruce. 

After supper the men retired to the bunk- 
house and stripped off their wet larrigans, moc- 
casins or lumbermen’s rubbers, and hung their 
leggings and mittens over the stove to dry. 
Then lolling back on the deacon seats before 
their bunks they enjoyed their pipes and ex- 
changed yams. 

Stanley and Bub kept their eye on the French- 
man. Unlike the others he kept his foot-gear 
on. Finally he rose, after all the men had en- 
tered the camp and slowly sauntered out into 
the dingle. The boys stole to the door and 
peeped out. He was reconnoitering Cub’s 
quarters. Satisfied that the cook was busy with 
the dish-washing he quickly drew himself up 
into the spruce. The lads knew he was going 
to obtain a slice of the ham, probably intending 
to smuggle it into his bunk and eat it after his 
mates were asleep. This was their cue and Bub 
stepped into the dingle and whistling shrilly 
approached the tree. 

‘‘Wait for me,” called out Stanley, and Bub 


234 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


halted beneath the spruce. As they had fore- 
seen the Frenchman remained quiet in the top 
of his tall perch. 

With Bub on guard Stanley returned to the 
bunk-room and carelessly announced, “I believe 
I can bring back that ham, Abner. ’ ’ 

‘‘Keep still,’’ hissed Abner, winking rapidly. 

“What ham! Whose ham!” innocently 
asked the old trapper, who had not shared the 
secret. 

“A ham stolen from the kitchen,” loudly con- 
tinued Stanley. By this time the men were 
emerging from their bunks, each face showing 
bewilderment. 

“Some more monkey-didoes!” cried Pudgy 
Williams. 

“Some more of that dratted axeman’s 
games!” groaned a chopper. 

“Young Chief talk too much like squaw,” 
angrily censored Charlie. 

“Bless us and save us!” exclaimed Hogan. 
“This is the first I’ve heard of anyone lifting a 
ham. When was it stolen! Who stole it!” 

“Now ye’ve let the cat out of the bag,” 
growled Abner. “Cub says one of my hams 
was took from the camp. Someone sneaked it. 
He was out for a walk and probably a wildcat 
dropped in and took it.” 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


235 


‘H know he closed the door after him and 
found it closed when he returned,” solemnly as- 
sured Stanley. 

^Ht^s mislaid. No ham is stolen,” stoutly 
declared Hogan, seeking to offset any disagree- 
able effect on the men. 

^‘Yes, the ham disappeared all right,” main- 
tained Stanley. ^‘That’s why I say I think I 
will bring it hack.” 

Young Chief make medicine that fetch um 
ham here!” curiously demanded Charlie, now 
alive with interest. ‘‘Fat boy make big medi- 
cine many uni time. Can Young Chief make 
same ? ’ ’ 

“The fat boy didn’t have strong enough med- 
icine to prevent the ham from disappearing,” 
reminded Stanley. “I have enough medicine to 
fetch it back.” 

“Ugh! Good talk,” mumbled the Indian. 

‘ ‘ Stanley Malcolm, what do you mean by talk- 
ing like this ? ’ ’ angrily demanded Cub from the 
door. “If you and Bub swiped that ham it was 
a mighty poor joke.” 

“Ugh! Boy take ham. Now boy bring um 
back,” sniffed the Indian. 

“If ye’d wanted a slice or two ye was welcome 
to it, or the whole of it,” sorrowfully spoke up 
Abner, now convinced the boys had been up to 


236 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


some prank. ‘ ‘ But I We got a deep-rooted, poor 
opinion of a ham-stealer. 

“And ye sat through supper and watched 
this poor, sutfering, harmless critter worry 
along without his extry tid-hit,’’ sadly de- 
nounced Foster Farnum, his lips twitching be- 
hind a wild desire to laugh. 

“All wrong,’’ cheerily corrected Stanley. 
“Neither Bub nor I would think of playing such 
a poor joke. I shall want one or two choppers 
just outside the door to help with my medicine.” 

Instantly all the men began pulling on their 
footwear, each eager to see the end of the mys- 
tery. Noisy Charlie watched the boy sternly, 
trying to decide whether it was all a joke, or 
whether he was about to puzzle them by some 
unusual display of power. The Indian firmly 
believed in “good” and “bad” medicine. 
Stanley’s coming into the woods, bringing 
good-luck to all who befriended, him, was the 
biggest and best kind of medicine to the In- 
dian’s way of thinking. He was now prepared 
to believe that by some hidden power the youth 
would accomplish what he had so confidently 
promised. 

“Here I be,” cried Pudgy Williams, dancing 
forward with an axe, eager to participate in 
the event. 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


237 


“Count me in/’ cried another. 

“Hold on, my dears,” commanded Hogan. 
“Let me take a hand in this. What’s the game, 
honey? It’s fine full moon and as light as the 
daytime. Where shall we operate?” 

“Right here in front of the door,” said Stan- 
ley. ‘ ‘ This way, please. ’ ’ And he led the won- 
dering crew out into the night and up to the 
spruce tree. 

Then in a half whisper he announced, “No 
one must speak a word except me or Bub. Ho- 
gan, this tree has been undercut and half sawed 
through. You’re to fell it.” 

“That’s easy,” muttered Hogan, stepping 
forward and swinging the axe. As the blows 
fell in rapid unison Stanley softly explained to 
the wondering group, “You may not know it, 
but sometimes hams fly up in trees. I don’t go 
so far as to say they build nests, but they have 
been known to take to a spruce tree.” 

“Young Chief bad up here,” groaned Charlie, 
tapping his forehead. 

“Stand from under,” cried Hogan, stepping 
back. 

The tall spruce gave a creak and a groan and 
inclined away from the camp. Then with a 
gentle rush it swooped downward, its tough, 
long boughs deadening the fall and allowing 


238 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


the Frenchman to roll out into the snow with- 
out a scratch. 

‘‘Goodness to gracious!^’ ejaculated Abner, 
throwing up both hands. 

“Bless us, if it isn’t Pierre Dusette!” cried 
Hogan. 

“Why, he’s got Abner’s ham in his hand!” 
exclaimed Cub, who had watched the proceed- 
ings with the greatest amazement. 

Then as the truth of the situation dawned on 
the loggers they crowded about the poor 
Frenchman, shouting boisterously, while even 
the imperturbable Charlie was compelled to 
smile. 

“Young Chief make heap big medicine,” he 
admitted. 

“I ban wan beeg rascal,” humbly confessed 
Pierre, handing the ham to Cub. “I see dat 
ham, she mak’ me a teef. Ba golly! I mak’ 
wan vow I nevare eat none of heem.” 

“Ye’re right ye won’t eat none of ‘heem’,” 
hotly cried Abner. “I snum! See where the 
varmint has gnawed off about a pound ! ’ ’ 

But the Frenchman, if he had erred, was now 
to pay the price, for his jeering comrades made 
his life miserable long after he had crawled into 
his bunk and had drawn the blankets over his 
head. 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


239 


This incident, simple though it was, served 
to refresh the men’s tempers wonderfully, so 
that on the morrow Abner, with a sly chuckle, 
confided to Foster and the Indian that he wished 
the Frenchman would succumb to temptation 
once more. But Pierre never otfended again. 

At last came the day when Hogan gladly an- 
nounced that the setting sun would see the last 
load of logs come down from the upper yard. 
Up till now the weather had been cold and clear, 
with never a threat of snow in the air. Noisy 
Charlie had just insisted that a storm was brew- 
ing when the foreman made his happy announce- 
ment. Abner glanced knowingly at the old 
trapper, who in turn winked gravely at the In- 
dian. It was obvious they had arrived at some 
understanding. It was this : now that the logs 
had been safely hauled to a big yard near the 
camp and would soon be dumped at the landing 
on the stream the three men were anxious to 
take the trail of the axeman once more and en- 
deavor for all time to eliminate his influence 
from the Mt. Crow country. They had seen 
enough of the timber to realize the Great North- 
ern would desire to operate extensively about 
the mountain by another season. They were 
shrewd enough to know that the mystery sur- 
rounding the strange trespasser must be cleared 


240 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


up before efficient service could be bad from 
another crew. Hogan men would spread curi- 
ous reports on returning to the Squawtooth un- 
less the man be caught. Their gossip, magni- 
fied a hundredfold in the telling, might deter 
many a lusty lumberjack from consenting to 
work in such a place. 

But while the trio of old friends had waited 
until the upper yard was cleared before push- 
ing their search beyond the mountain there was 
another problem confronting them. The boys 
would insist on taking part in the venture. It 
was Abner who hit upon a scheme to eliminate 
the boys from the situation. This was to send 
them to the Squawtooth after a tote-sled load 
of supplies. It would require from three to 
four days for them to make the round trip even 
if they pressed onward at top speed. During 
that time it would be surprising, argued Abner, 
if three woodsmen of his and his friends ’ ability 
could not run the eccentric stranger to earth. 

When the trip was proposed Stanley 
promptly stated that he did not relish it. In 
truth, he and Bub had planned to investigate by 
themselves the moment the logs were cleared 
from the mountain. To go after supplies would 
necessitate an abandonment of their plans for 
several days. 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


241 


‘^All right,” gently said Abner. agreed 
that this job belonged to you, Stanley. lUs up 
to you to get the logs to the landing as soon as 
possible, where they can be scaled and marked. 
We’ve got to have the supplies. Cub can’t go, 
’cause he’s got to cook. If ye send any of the 
men ye ’re hampering Hogan with the work. Us 
three old fellers could do it, but I’d never for- 
give myself if we quit this region and left ye 
and that harum-scarum, good-for-nothing Bub 
Thomas up here to run wild. It ’s all up to ye, 
my lad. Suit yerself . ’ ’ 

suppose Bub and I will have to do it,’^ 
groaned Stanley. ‘^But I wish Cub would 
economize a bit, so we wouldn’t run short of 
things. ’ ’ 

Abner suppressed a smile of triumph and 
hastened to tell his companions that the boys 
were about to set out, thus leaving the coast 
clear. Buh was downcast when he received 
word of the proposed trip. ^‘I wonder if that 
relative of mine is planning some game on us,” 
he muttered. 

‘^Hardly, under the circumstances,” said 
Stanley. We’ve got to have supplies. He 
won’t go and leave us here alone. And I guess 
it wouldn’t be right to make a man of his years 
spend his strength driving a tote-team. If 


242 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Hogan sends some of the loggers they may take 
fright at a partridge along the way and never 
come back. At the best it would cut his force 
down by two men, for no one man would con- 
sent to go alone. We could turn in and take 
their places, but I’m not much good at loading 
logs. If we worked as loggers we wouldn’t 
have an opportunity to cruise after the axe- 
man. ’ ’ 

“We’ve got to go,” slowly agreed Bub. 
Then with flashing eyes he suggested: “But 
when we get back why not put the horses up at 
the hovel, five miles out, and attend to our little 
business before returning to camp! Once we 
get back Abner will keep a sharp eye on us. 
Stan, it’ll give us a fine chance. We can leave 
plenty of feed and the supplies will be safe. 
We can set out across country early in the morn- 
ing and be back with the nags before night. 
We might even drive them into camp, arriving 
early in the evening. ’ ’ 

This impressed Stanley as being a desirable 
plan and he gave a half assent, adding, “It 
all depends on how things turn out while we ’re 
going and coming. When shall we start T’ 

“The quicker the better,” urged Bub. “We 
must make a flying trip so as to get back to the 
hovel ahead of time, It won’t do to be late in 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


243 


returning to camp. For then Abner will send 
men down to meet us and they’ll find the nags 
and supplies but no boys.” 

This conversation was held late in the after- 
noon and the boys quickly decided to push on as 
far as the hovel that day, thus leaving them a 
fifteen-mile jaunt for the morrow. Eeceiving 
a list of the things needed and promising to 
bring back extra horses, they obtained a big 
hamper of cooked food from Cub and set forth. 

For some distance it was possible for both of 
them to ride, but as they left the Mt. Crow tract 
behind the road grew rough and they were glad 
to walk. Five miles was a simple matter for 
them to cover and by early evening, with the 
heavens promising snow before morning, they 
arrived at their resting-place and bedded the 
horses for the night. As the two lean-tos still 
stood where they had left them they used one 
for holding their supplies and spread their 
blankets under the other. 

‘H’ll get water for the horses,” offered Bub, 
picking up two pails. 

^H’ll go with you and get a pail for our tea,” 
said Stanley. 

The water was some distance from the hovel 
and the overcast sky plunged the way in dark- 
ness. At last they reached the spot where a 


244 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


deep pool formed beside a brook, and Bub called 
for the axe. With practised stroke he sank the 
axe into the ice with Stanley holding a roll of 
burning bark to guide him. 

Suddenly he straightened and observed, 
‘^ThaUs a queer echo I’m making.” 

Stanley hadn’t noticed, and, to test it. Bub 
struck the axe downward stoutly. A hollow 
booming note was tossed back to them within a 
few seconds. 

“It ’s a different caliber from the sound you’re 
making,” commented Stanley. “It’s more 
mellow.” 

“The noise in being reflected takes on some 
new twists,” said Bub. “Just as when you 
give a halloa and it’s repeated several times, 
with the last echo sounding faint and ghostly 
like.” 

“Something like that!” whispered Stan- 
ley, crushing the fire from the torch with his 
heel. 

His query had been prompted by the same 
hollow booming note, only this time it came to 
them while Bub was standing motionless. 

“Why, it wasn’t any echo!” he cried. 

Stanley held out his hand, palm upward, and 
significantly informed, “It’s snowing.” 

“You think it’s the axeman?” muttered Bub, 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 245 

trying to pierce the darkness with his sweeping 
gaze. 

‘‘Who else would be abroad on a stormy 
night, chopping trees,” murmured Stanley. 
“Let’s be getting back to the nags.” 

“But the water? We must fill the pails,” in- 
sisted Bub. “Light some more bark. We’re 
down in a hollow. That chopping is some dis- 
tance off. I don’t believe my blows can be 
heard that far. Anyway we must risk it.” 

Another roll of bark was soon ignited and, 
working rapidly, Bub soon had the hole chopped 
through and the pails filled. Then they has- 
tened back to their camp, moving as expedi- 
tiously as the darkness and their burdens would 
permit. In spite of the nervousness naturally 
excited by the proximity of the gray axeman 
they built a fire and heated water to pour into 
the feed pails to take the chill off the horses’ 
portion. This done they heated more for their 
tea and by the dancing light of the fire opened 
their hamper and partook of the good things 
Cub had prepared for them. Pinned to a pie 
was a note which warned them not to forget the 
violin. In a parcel, marked ‘For Bub especial,’ 
which that young man had carefully carried 
all day as some tid-bit to be treasured, they 
found a ham bone, minus meat, together with a 


246 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


line to the effect it was presented with the com- 
pliments of Pierre Dusette. 

‘‘Just wait till I get back,” growled Bub, 
hurling the bone aside. “From the way he 
looked when he handed it to me I supposed it 
was something extra in the line of treat. ’ ’ 

After finishing their supper they packed 
things up for an early start and then de- 
bated the question whether the fire should 
be allowed to die down or not. Bub was for 
keeping it at a generous heat, but Stanley in- 
sisted it would simply advertise their presence 
should the gray axeman wander their way. 

“It isn’t bitter cold,” he argued. “So long 
as it’s warm enough to snow we can get along all 
right if we let it die out. If you’d seen as 
much of that chap as I have you wouldn’t be so 
willing for him to walk in upon you. It’s dif- 
ferent, sneaking up and spying on him, from 
feeling that he’s behind a bush, spying on 
you. ’ ’ 

“I sha’n’t be satisfied till I see him,” said 
Bub. “I can’t make him seem real from the 
way you’ve described him.” 

“The next time I see him I want to see him 
first,” assured Stanley, making a wry face as he 
recalled how the stranger had whirled the axe. 

The snow was now falling quite heavily, caus- 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


247 


ing the fire to hiss continuously as if in protest. 
As the boys added no more fuel, depending en- 
tirely upon their warm clothing and heavy 
blankets, the coals turned black, one by one, 
until only a faint mist of steam rose from what 
had been a roaring fire. 

Had there been light for them to see they 
would have observed that the hovel was draped 
anew with a white mantle, the low structure 
blending in with the surrounding drifts until it 
would be hard to distinguish it as man-made. 
They would also have found that their low lean- 
tos were well thatched with snow and bore no 
semblance to a snug resting-place for the night. 
And as snow smooths out all inequalities of sur- 
face and models the ungainly into a beautiful 
softness of lines, so, also, does it muffle sound 
and allow footsteps to approach unheard. 
Early in the evening, the boys took alarm be- 
cause of the stamping and snorting of the 
horses. Stanley gripped his friend’s arm and 
whispered, ‘‘The gray axeman.” But Bub 
smiled in the darkness and quietly corrected, 
“Some wild thing, a cat or a lynx, sniffing 
round the hovel. Horses wouldn’t be afraid of 
a man-smell — not even if it be our wild man of 
Mt. Crow.” 

To verify his statement he called out loudly 


248 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


and a faint movement in the underbrush told of 
the retreat of some intruder. The horses at 
once became quiet. Stanley rebuked him for 
raising a cry but Bub insisted they were in no 
danger from anything beside four-legged visit- 
ors and pulling his blankets close about him 
composed himself for sleep. Stanley remained 
awake for sometime, reviewing the strange in- 
cidents that had marked their trip to Mt. Crow. 
Then his breathing came full and deep and he 
was unconscious of the softly falling snow 
and the possible proximity of the gray axe- 
man. 

Neither could ever decide which awoke first. 
They only knew they found themselves fully 
awake, listening for the repetition of some 
sound. Then as they peeped out from their low 
shelter there came a flash of flame and they be- 
held a strange tableau. The gray axeman, 
whitened by the snow, stood near the hovel, a 
large roll of flaming birch bark held about his 
gaunt head. The soft wind blew the smoke 
about him, but it could not conceal the flashing 
of his fierce eyes. What caused the boys to 
hold their breath was the shining axe he held in 
his right hand, as he peered suspiciously about. 
He presented a terrifying figure as he stood 
thus, a wraith of the storm, his long hair snap- 


BUB SEES THE AXEMAN 


249 


ping in the wind, bis long arms showing bare 
nearly to the elbow. 

His gaze was traveling in a circle and would 
soon sweep over the low lean-to. Whether or 
not he would discover the narrow, black open- 
ing was the question that caused Bub ’s eyes to 
distend with suspense. Then the boy realized 
an additional danger. The horses were quiet, 
probably asleep, but once they sniffed the burn- 
ing bark they might betray their presence. 
With a sudden resolve and before the roving 
eyes had turned towards the lean-to Bub raised 
himself on his elbow, his hand grasping the 
ham bone, and with painful care he hurled this 
missile at the torch. It sped true and dashed 
the flaming mass into the snow. In an instant 
all was dark as Erebus. With a wild cry the 
gray axeman crashed away through the forest. 


CHAPTER XIV 


DISCIPLINE OF THE SQUAWTOOTH 

The storm ceased during the night, and when 
the boys crawled from the blankets in the morn- 
ing it was to find a sudden rise in temperature, 
Bub predicted a January thaw and urged haste 
in making the Squawtooth. 

‘Hf it holds this warm wedl have rain and 
this road will he impassable,’’ he warned. ‘Ht 
would be just our luck to be held in camp down 
there for a week.” 

Stanley insisted they should return on sched- 
ule time, even if they were compelled to leave 
the horses for some of the men to bring up. 
With the menace of a rain, which would turn 
the deep snow into slush, the horses were fed 
and watered and harnessed to the double-sled 
long before sunrise. 

With fifteen miles before them and the road 
soft from last night’s snow there was little in- 
clination for idle conversation, both being in- 
tent to push ahead and cover as great a distance 
as possible before the traveling became worse. 

250 


DISCIPLINE OP SQUAWTOOTH 251 

Up came the sun and soon the mackinaws were 
thrown on the sleds, the boys even finding their 
sweaters rather uncomfortable to travel in. At 
first one would go ahead on his snowshoes while 
the other drove. Then they quickly discov- 
ered that the intelligent animals needed no 
driver, and both preceded the team, trampling 
down the surface snow. In this fashion they 
covered nearly ten miles before they halted to 
feed their animals and eat the remainder of the 
lunch. By the time they had finished the sun 
grew hazy, as a thin gray film overcast the 
heavens. 

With a low groan Bub predicted rain before 
night and clucked impatiently to the weary 
nags. But haste was out of the question. Two 
miles an hour would be excellent progress for 
them to make and they were forced to be con- 
tent with endeavoring to average that pace. 
About five o^clock, with the early evening dusk 
accentuated by the low hanging clouds, there 
fell the first drops of rain. Then with a definite 
purpose the drops fell faster, driving the boys 
into their mackinaws, until a steady downpour 
was rendering the footing soggy and treacher- 
ous. 

There are the camp lights!’’ rejoiced Bub, 
as several twinkling yellow points ahead pierced 


252 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


the mist and rain. As he spoke the horses 
struck the Squawtooth logging road, which had 
been well iced, and instantly accelerated their 
gait. In another five minutes they were at the 
hovel with the barn boss giving directions for 
their supper. 

‘‘Who’s running the camp while Abner’s 
away?” asked Bub, as he and Stanley removed 
their personal belongings from the sled and 
turned to make for the bunk-house. 

“McPherson,” informed the barn-boss. 
“Say, I ain’t no tattler but Abner made a mis- 
take in leaving him in charge. ’ ’ 

Bub halted and curiously demanded, “Why? 
What’s up?” 

“You’ll soon see for yourself,” muttered the 
man. “I guess I won’t say nothing more.” 

“My friend,” quietly informed Stanley, 
“you’ve said too much or too little. You’re 
drawing wages from the Great Northern. You 
know something isn’t right. Out with it! We 
represent the Great Northern.” 

“Oh, it ain’t no secret,” hastily continued the 
man. “But Abner has such a masterful way 
with him that he forgits a camp needs to be put 
under discipline once in a while. So long as 
he’s here the men never make no trouble. But 
you can’t round up fifty loggers without having 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 253 

one or two sore-heads in the crew. When Ab- 
ner went away he named old man McPherson, 
knowing he knew the logging game. But Mac 
is old and got lamed up trying to help load a 
log and one or two fellers have been soldiering 
on the job and laughing at his orders. They 
figger he’ll be ashamed to complain to Abner 
and they’re planning to take it easy.” 

“Is that all?” quietly asked Stanley. 

^^I guess so,” replied the man. “Guess I 
won’t go inside with you, as they might think 
I’d been tattling.” 

“Who are the men!” demanded Stanley, his 
under jaw creeping forward. “You needn’t 
hesitate to tell me. You’re a sub-boss and not 
one of the crew. I sha’n’t mention the fact that 
you ’ve told me anything. ’ ’ 

“Well,” hesitated the barn boss, “they’re 
Rink Daniels and Joe Blue. Mac is sort of 
deef, you know, and when he gives an order they 
mimic him and then pretend they didn’t under- 
stand and don’t do it. This sets the others to 
laughing and sort of breaks up the working 
spirit. The other men are good fellers, but 
easily led into mischief. Truth is, the crew 
hasn’t only half worked since Abner went away. 
Daniels made believe he was sick this morning 
and wouldn’t quit his bunk till every one had 


254 THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

gone to work. Then he got up and loafed all 
day.’^ 

^ ‘ I see, ’ ^ murmured Stanley, his eyes narrow- 
ing. 

little missionary work, ehU’ whispered 
Bub eagerly. 

Stanley nodded and, thanking their inform- 
ant, approached the bunk-house. Both boys 
were angry over the news. MacPherson was a 
skilled logger and had long been employed by 
the Great Northern. Both boys had learned to 
admire his peaceful disposition and kindly ways, 
and it aroused their choler to know he was 
being made the butt of jokes. Daniels and Blue 
had joined the crew late in the season and had 
been taken on because the camp was short- 
handed. The fact they were without employ- 
ment until mid-winter evidenced they had either 
been discharged from some other camp or had 
been too shiftless to seek honest work. But so 
long as Abner or the fiery Hogan had charge of 
them they had worked stoutly, even if unwill- 
ingly. 

‘Ht makes me mad to find two clowns daring 
to make sport of a nice old chap like Mac,’’ 
gritted Blib. 

‘‘And he’s that kind of heart that he’d hold 
his tongue when Abner and Hogan get back,’’ 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 255 

added Stanley. ‘‘How’s your muscle, my 
boy?” 

Bub grinned and doubled up bis strong right 
arm and confidently asserted, ‘ ‘ Hard enough to 
convince a loafer he ought not to stay in his 
bunk. ’ ’ 

“They’ve used up their strength and vitality 
in brawling in the settlements. No man can 
spend all his wages for liquor and keep his 
wind,” remarked Stanley. 

“And you’ll always find that a fellow who 
abuses an old man or a child is a coward when 
it comes to real trouble,” declared Bub. Then 
he halted and thoughtfully mused, “I wonder 
if they know us ? I don ’t know them. ’ ’ 

“I don’t know, or care,” said Stanley, about 
to slide down the steep path into the bunk- 
house. 

“Wait a second,” restrained Bub. “We 
were here only a short time and spent most of 
the time in Abner’s camp. If they don’t know 
us let’s not let on that we’re anything more 
than tote men for the company.” 

“Suit yourself,” carelessly returned Stanley. 
“Probably the men will bleat out our names 
the minute we enter. ’ ’ 

“Those chaps won’t know our names from a 
side of sole-leather,” grinned Bub. “They’ll 


256 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


accept them just as names. Besides, the men 
will be kind of quiet and silent-like, knowing 
theyVe been loafing. Youdl find they won’t 
crowd forward as they usually do.” 

Bub’s prediction proved to be correct. As 
they entered the door and stood for a moment 
by the stove the men lounging about the deacon 
seats, removed their pipes and stared at them 
curiously. Then they averted their gaze, some 
nodding slightly in recognition, others pretend- 
ing not to see the newcomers. 

McPherson entered right at their heels and 
Bub nudged Stanley to move back into a corner 
so that the old man might not see them. But 
they need not have feared his recognition as he 
kept his eyes fastened on a cedar shingle, which 
he used in keeping the tally of each day’s haul 
to the landing. 

“Boys,” he sorrowfully informed, “I find 
we’re running behind most scand’lous. Now 
the rain’s come and we can’t do much for sev- 
eral days, mebbe. If it turns cold before morn- 
ing I want you all to put in a few extry licks and 
see if you can’t make up the ground we’ve lost. ” 

With this mild rebuke he turned to shuffle 
from their room but a sallow-faced young man 
sprang from his bunk and hastened after him, 
leering maliciously over his shoulder at the oth- 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 257 

ers. The loggers now fully realized that Stan- 
ley and Bub were quietly taking in the entire 
situation, and it pleased them to believe that an 
unexpected entertainment was being prepared 
for the boys^ especial benefit. Not for worlds 
would they have warned the young bully of the 
boys’ true identity. The sallow-faced man was 
Rink Daniels. Neither of the boys remembered 
having seen him before. 

He overtook McPherson at the door and 
roughly grabbed him by the shoulder. As the 
old man wheeled in surprise Daniels cringed 
meekly and mimicking the boss’ voice humbly 
asked, ‘^Yer orders don’t mean that sick men 
must git out and kill themselves a-working, does 
it?” 

McPherson blinked at* the speaker and his 
face grew worried as he replied, ‘H never ex- 
pect a man, who is genuinely sick, to work. But 
it’s hard luck that any of you men should have 
to lay off just now. Try and brace up and be 
fit by to-morrow. ’ ’ 

He would have departed but again Daniels’ 
hand swung him violently around and for the 
second time the man cringed, thus causing Mc- 
Pherson to believe the cruel grasp on his shoul- 
der was unintentional in its severity. 

^‘Mister McPherson,” he humbly asked, ‘^ye 


258 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


wouldn’t ask a man to work what’s suffering 
keenly with stomach trouble, would ye ? ” 

The loggers snickered at this, as Daniels’ only 
ailment was his ferocious appetite. 

McPherson sensed something was wrong, but 
naturally unsuspicious and inclined to accept 
others at their face value, testily replied, “I 
don’t ask any man to work unless he’s physic- 
ally able. But if a man becomes an invalid I 
don’t expect to keep his name on the pay-roll.” 

At this speech, very blunt for McPherson to 
make, Daniels’ ugly face gathered in a deep 
scowl. Before he could speak another man, 
short and stocky, with reddish hair and com- 
plexion, stepped forward and indignantly de- 
manded : ‘ ‘ See here, McPherson, what ye mean 
by giving honest loggers a bad name? Jest 
’cause ye’re camp-boss have ye any right to 
slander honest loggers ? Think this crew is go- 
ing to work and slave fer ye and yer rotten old 
company and fer thanks git called down if one 
of ’em is sick?” 

The old man’s eyes lighted angrily at this 
brutal speech, and yet he feared to precipitate 
any trouble he could not handle. He feared 
that the loggers as a body were ripe for mutiny, 
not because they had any reason, but simply 
because they had been led into mischievous ways 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 259 

of thinking. Therefore his only desire was to 
keep them placated until Abner or Hogan could 
return, when the necessary discipline would be 
speedily and thoroughly enforced. 

slander no one,^’ he contented himself with 
replying, and then turned and darted from the 
room. 

A loud laugh from the two bullies, accom- 
panied by a deep titter of amusement from the 
others, followed the old man’s exit. The log- 
gers, as a body, were laughing at the mischief- 
makers as well as with them. For they scented 
an unexpected finale to the situation in the per- 
sons of the two boys behind the stove. They 
had seen Stanley attempt to press forward when 
the bullies were badgering the old man. They 
had observed Bub restraining him. 

Daniels turned towards the grinning faces 
along the deacon seats, and announced, ‘‘To- 
morrer morning the whole danged crew wants 
. to be sick. That ’s providing it clears off cold. 
If it’s too rainy to work the bosses we’ll git up 
a dance and make the cook give us something 
extry fer a feed. I’ll tell him three of us have 
the same birthday. Wish I had some licker. 
This is the dernedest camp I ever see. I 
wouldn’t stuck here but s ’posed someone would 
smuggle in a taste.” 


260 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Blue touched his arm and silently pointed to 
the two boys. It was the first time the men had 
noticed them. Daniels stepped forward and 
stared impudently in their faces and the boys 
tingled with delight in observing he did not 
recognize them. They were very anxious he 
should repeat his bullying tactics with them for 
the victims. Bub nudged Stanley and then 
averted his gaze, as though the bold stare of 
Daniels nonplussed him. Blue also proceeded 
to study them curiously. The newness of their 
mackinaws caused his nose to wrinkle in disgust. 
^^What have we here, Kink!^’ he sternly de- 
manded, turning and winking expressively at 
the loggers. He believed that the latter, in 
doubling over in silent laughter, were paying 
homage to his ability as a fun-maker. 

Daniels, imitating his friend’s grave bearing, 
compressed his lips and replied, ‘^They look 
like dudes to me, Joey. I seen picters of two 
dudes once what looked like these two kids. 
Where ’d ye git that nice new coat?” And he 
placed his dirty hand on Bub’s sleeve and gave 
the cloth a yank. 

Stanley admired his friend’s self-restraint. 
Instead of flooring the bully he lowered his head 
and mumbled something about buying it in the 
city. 


DISCIPLINE OP SQUAWTOOTH 261 

‘‘Ah, ha!” roared Daniels indignantly and 
turning to his companion. “D^ye hear that? 
They admit they come from the city.” Then 
wheeling to the boys he demanded, “What 
might ye want up here?” 

“We thought to get work,” gently replied 
Stanley. 

“By Humphrey!” roared Blue, trying to sim- 
ulate righteous indignation. “Can ye beat 
that, Rinky? Here be two city dudes a-coming 
way up here to take the bread from our mouths. 
It ain’t enough fer us to have a cruel, onkindly 
boss, but we have to have dudes butting in and 
gitting our jobs.” 

The loggers laughed hysterically, and the 
two bullies believing this was but more ap- 
plause, squared their shoulders for their next 
effort. 

“Can’t we get work here?” timidly asked 
Bub, pouting his lips as though dismayed or 
frightened. 

“We’d work very hard. We’re never sick,” 
eagerly added Stanley. 

The last caused Daniels’ face to flush. He 
almost wondered if the newcomer was reflect- 
ing on his own alleged illness. 

Dropping his tone of banter he gritted, “But 
ye’ll be sick fer sometime if ye try to cut up 


262 THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

any didoes with me. See? I’m Rink Daniels, 
I he.” 

‘‘And here’s his running mate, Joey Blue. 
Jest remember that. I be Joe Blue.” 

‘ ‘ They evidently never went to school, ’ ’ softly 
said Stanley to Bub. “Do you notice they say, 
‘I be,’ where they should say, ‘I am.’ It’s very 
distressing.” 

“They sound uncouth,” shuddered Bub. 
Then turning to Daniels he said, ‘ ‘ Man, you talk 
very improperly. ’ ’ 

With a gasp of rage Daniels clenched his fists 
and cried, “Jest step clear of that stove. This 
here is sudden death,” and he brandished his 
right fist. ‘ ‘ This here is six months in the hos- 
pital. Now come out of that afore I drag 
ye.” 

“Ye sha’n’t polish both of ’em,” interfered 
Blue. “I want one to play with.” 

“I’ll have the hide off the pup what called me 
‘man’,” choked Daniels. 

“Then I take it back,” humbly cried Bub. 
“You’re not a man.” 

“That’s worser!” grimly informed Daniels, 
edging nearer, incited by the delighted hooting 
of the loggers. 

“How’d we best do it, Rink? Team-work, 
the way we used to up ’Suncook way, or take 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 263 

turns inquired Blue, rolling up liis shirt- 
sleeves. 

Daniels paused for a moment to consider, 
then thoughtfully replied, ^‘S’pose we leave it 
to the crowd. While it^s a painful duty to us 
we oughter let the crowd git any amusement 
out of it they can.’’ 

^^One mill at a time,” roared a big teamster, 
crackling his finger- joints in his enjoyment of 
the scene. For like his mates he knew the 
caliber of the lads and was already hugging 
himself at the thought of the surprise the bullies 
were about to encounter. 

The other loggers raised the same shout and 
Daniels grinned broadly. He believed the loud 
acclaim was but another evidence of his popu- 
larity. don’t want to seem stuck up, Joey,” 
he modestly observed. ‘‘But I guess I’d better 
lead otf with my chicken. If ye can pick up any 
points about my nifty foot-work ye’re wel- 
come.” 

“Sail ahead,” complacently returned Blue, 
stepping back. 

Bub would have preferred Blue for his op- 
ponent. Blue, he considered, to be the more 
dangerous man of the two, although his strong 
frame had been weakened by repeated de- 
bauches, His flesh looked loose and unwhole- 


264 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


some and his wind must be somewhat impaired 
by his excesses, Bub believed. Yet Daniels had 
picked him for an adversary and it would have 
been unsportsmanlike for him to have attempted 
to shift the situation. 

Accordingly he threw otf his sweater and 
stepped clear of the stove. 

Daniels quickly appraised the lad^s strong 
figure and carelessly asked, ‘‘Be ye ready T’ 

“Always,’’ lightly replied Bub, who stood 
with his hands hanging limply at his sides. 

He had scarcely mouthed the one word before 
Daniels leaped forward, shooting out his fist. 
Ducking under it Bub caught his foe heavily on 
the left side of the jaw and almost at the same 
moment landed his other fist under the right 
ear. With a grunt of pain Daniels shot into the 
air and landed on his back. The loggers yelled 
derisively and began baiting ; 

“Ain’t got over yer sickness yet, I guess.” 

“Pretty soft game fer the kid!” 

“It’s a trick,” howled Daniels, staggering to 
his feet and warily approaching his smiling op- 
ponent. 

“Here’s another one,” drawled Bub, feinting 
with his left and catching his man with his right 
on the point of the chin. This time Daniels did 
not essay to rise. Remaining on his back he 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 265 

stared up at the smiling boy while a look of in- 
tense surprise, shaded with fear crept over his 
sallow face. 

‘‘Hooray I yelled a chopper. “Was that 
the nifty foot work ye did up ’Suncook 
way?” 

‘ ‘ Hurry up ! Get on your feet ! ’ ’ impatiently 
urged Bub. “Supper will be ready in a min- 
ute.” 

“Don’t keep a dude waiting,” jeered one of 
the delighted spectators. 

“I don’t want no supper,” cried Daniels, re- 
fusing to rise. “I’m going to my bunk.” 

“If you’ve got enough, crawl away,” kindly 
consented Bub. “Your turn, Stanley.” 

Blue’s face was distorted with rage. He 
knew his physical short-comings. He knew his 
wind would last but for a moment. What was 
more he began to fear his antagonist might de- 
velop into as worthy a foe as had Bub. In- 
stead of finding two boys to cuff brutally about 
he suspected he and his friend had made a sad 
error in judgment. He would have withdrawn 
from the encounter, but the men were calling 
loudly in derision and before him stood the lad, 
his lips slightly parted in a faint smile. It 
was a characteristic of Stanley’s to show his 
teeth in a smile when aroused to righteous an- 


266 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


ger. Only his eyes did not smile. That fact 
worried Blue. 

^‘What ye going to do, Blueyf Wait till the 
kid falls asleep U’ taunted a logger. 

‘‘He’s planning some of his team work,” 
hoarsely jibed another. 

Lashing himself into a black passion and de- 
ciding to trust all to one rush Blue caught his 
breath, ducked his head and lunged forward. 
The blow he swung with his big fist would have 
settled the contest then and there had it landed. 
But Stanley had expected the move and neatly 
ducked under the brawny arm, jabbing viciously 
with his right and landing two stinging blows 
before his man could recover his balance. 

“That dude trick won’t work again,” puffed 
Blue, gathering himself for another onslaught. 
If he could but clutch the boy in his arms he 
would soon make quick work of him, he believed. 
Bub also feared this maneuver and muttered, 
“Look out for close quarters, old man.” 

Stanley nodded and, smiling more broadly, 
dropped his hands. With a snarl of triumph 
Blue was at him, swinging both left and right in 
mighty buffets. Stanley gave back and Blue’s 
eyes lighted with exultation. One more advance 
and he would have the lad tripping over the 
hearth of the big stove. But the heat at his 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 267 

back warned Stanley he had retreated as far as 
possible, and when his man took the next step 
he ducked under his smashing right and, pivot- 
ing with his body, dashed his fist to the jaw. 

Blue staggered back, his short, stocky body 
badly jolted by the blow. As he reeled back 
Stanley knew he must finish the disagreeable 
task at once, and with the quickness of a cat 
was upon his man, catching him first on one side 
of the head, then on the other, ducking and step- 
ping aside to escape the wildly swinging arms. 
Then seizing an unusually wide opening as a 
concluding advantage he sent home both right 
and left and the man from up ’Suncook way 
crumpled in a heap on the rough floor. 

‘‘Well, sir,’’ sternly cried Stanley, “how 
long are you to keep me waiting?” 

“Needn’t wait for me,” whined Blue. “I’m 
going to my bunk. ’ ’ 

“In with you, then, and listen to this. My 
name is Malcolm. What I say goes while Mr. 
Whitten and Hogan are away. For the days 
since Mr. Whitten has been absent you and your 
friend will draw half pay. For the time you 
have pretended to be sick you’ll draw nothing. 
Then remember this; if you don’t buckle down 
to-morrow and every day after and make up 
for the time you’ve loafed Hogan will be in- 


268 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


formed of your behavior and when you get your 
time-check he will add something as a present. ^ ^ 

The other loggers on hearing this shifted 
about uneasily. They knew Hogan. They also 
knew Abner. None of them wanted trouble with 
either. 

‘‘Daniels/^ called out Stanley sharply, ad- 
vancing to that individuaPs bunk, ‘‘you and Blue 
are too ill to enjoy any supper to-night. But 
by four o’clock to-morrow morning you will be 
up and helping the teamsters with the horses. 
After breakfast you and Blue will work at the 
yards. I can promise you ’ll be kept busy. And 
if either of you ever speak to Mr. McPherson 
again except to answer his questions I’ll see that 
Hogan gives you the worst trimming you ever 
had in your lives.” 

“I don’t want any mix-up with Hogan,” 
groaned Daniels. “I’d rather take my time 
to-morrer and hist my turkey fer the settle- 
ments.” 

“You’ll get no time except from Hogan,” 
quietly assured Stanley. “If you quit the crew 
before he or Mr. Whitten get back you ’ll receive 
no pay for the work you’ve done.” 

“I’m a man of peace,” cried Blue. “Don’t 
say nothing to Hogan or Mister Whitten, and 
I’ll work like a badger from now on.” 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 269 

‘‘I don’t know how a badger works,” said 
Stanley. “But you’ve got to pretend to be 
white men, or you’ll pay the consequences.” 

“Hooray for the kid!” shouted a burly team- 
ster. 

“Which reminds me I’ve got a word to say 
to you men,” grimly continued Stanley, turn- 
ing to the deacon seats. “I’m going to exam- 
ine the day slips to-night and see how much 
you’ve fallen off from the average since Mr. 
Whitten went away. And you’ve got to make 
up that lost average whatever it is. You’ve 
taken advantage of having a kindly, good-na- 
tured old man left in charge here, and you’ve 
soldiered. You didn’t have any particular rea- 
son for doing it, but you allowed these two bul- 
lies to lead you into playing the company dirt. 
That lost average is going to be made up, or 
you’ll explain the reason why to Abner and 
Hogan.” 

The teamster grinned shame-facedly. He 
knew he could take a boy under either arm and 
spank him. But he admired spunk. The aver- 
age logger never turns aside to avoid a scrim- 
mage, but courage counts for mountains with 
them. They had heard much of the boys’ ad- 
ventures and they fully appreciated their cour- 
age. The teamster humbly said : 


270 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘We was jest acting playful. DonT bleat to 
either Abner or Hogan and we’ll make up the 
average and go beyond it. We’d do it if only 
because you two kids always have yer nerve with 
ye. Ain’t that so, fellers?” 

A deep, booming affirmative was the answer, 
and amid a hoarse chorus of promises to beat 
any record ever made in Maine the boys picked 
up their sweaters and went in search of Mc- 
Pherson. 

They found him in the scaler’s camp, gloom- 
ily studying the totals of each day’s haul to the 
landing. He was much pleased to see them, and 
without informing him of the bunk-house epi- 
sode Stanley took the totals and checked them 
off. Then he said, “Mr. McPherson, if you 
were a less kindly man the crew wouldn’t have 
taken advantage of you. But they need some- 
one they stand in fear of, like Abner or Hogan. 
Abner’s tongue or Hogan’s fist is the medicine 
to keep them straight.” 

“I know, I know,” sorrowfully agreed Mc- 
Pherson. “I understand the woods game with 
the best of them. But I never was any good as 
a boss because I couldn’t ever bring myself to 
drive the men. And the moment you let down 
and treat them easy and gentle-like they’ll take 
advantage of you. It ’s kept me back all my life. 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 271 

It isn’t because I’m afraid of any man what ever 
walked into a camp. But I simply can’t bring 
myself to speak harsh to a logger, especially if 
he claims he’s doing his best. If he says he’s 
sick I haven’t the heart to drive him to work. I 
seen that done up on the East Branch once when 
I was a younker and the poor man died. Had 
pneumonia all the time and the boss drove him 
to work, saying he was spleeny. ” 

“Never mind,” soothed Stanley. “The 
Great Northern prefers you to be just as you 
are, a kind-hearted man. As to the crew’s sol- 
diering I’m sure you’ll find every man-jack on 
the job early to-morrow and I shall be much sur- 
prised if the day’s average doesn’t go ahead of 
anything they’ve done in any one day this win- 
ter. Bub and I shall be here for at least a day. 
Have an extra pair of horses ready to go back 
with us to Mt. Crow.” 

“The two new men seem to be the only ones 
who persist in loafing,” observed McPher- 
son. “I s’pose I oughter given them their 
time — ” 

“No, no, Mr. McPherson. Give no man his 
time. No one will ask for it, unless it’s Daniels 
or Blue. They’re not to have their time from 
anyone but Hogan. If they ask you and you tell 
them that, you’ll find them very humble and 


272 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


meecliing. Don’t worry about the average haul. 
It’s going to be as big as though Abner were 
here to run things. ’ ’ 

Having cheered up the temporary boss the 
boys proceeded to supper where they were 
loudly greeted by the grinning loggers. N either 
Daniels or Blue dared to be present. Stanley 
felt almost sorry he had forbidden them to have 
supper, but Bub insisted they had loafed so 
much a bit of a fast would do them good. As 
the boys ate the men around them heartily an- 
nounced what feats of logging they would do 
on the morrow, providing the rain ceased. It 
was obvious that the crew had experienced an 
entire change of heart and were as eager now to 
break all hauling records as they had been to 
dilly-dally. 

“ It is growing colder, ’ ’ informed Bub. ‘ ‘ To- 
morrow will find zero weather with the roads 
iced to a turn. ’ ’ 

‘‘Hooray!” shouted the big teamster, stuffing 
a doughnut into his mouth. “I’ll git up extry 
early so’s we can have a flying start. I’ll haul 
more logs then any feller in the crew.” 

“No, sir-ee!” warmly defied another driver. 
“I’ll beat ye out by three loads.” 

This rivalry between the two teamsters had 
spread throughout the crew by the time the 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 273 

boys retired to Abner ^s private camp, where 
they were to bunk for the night. 

‘‘What time is itT’ sighed Bub, stretching 
luxuriously. “I could take oath I haven’t been 
asleep more’n fifteen minutes. Now it must be 
morning. For I heard the teamsters passing.” 

Stanley sleepily lighted a match and exam- 
ined his watch. “Just three o’clock,” he 
chuckled. “They’ve started in to make up for 
lost time.” 

“Then that means that our two gladiators 
from up ’Suncook way are also stirring abroad 
at an early hour, ’ ’ laughed Bub. 

Two hours later they were aroused by the 
cook’s horn and turned out to find the roads a 
glare of ice. This was what the loggers pre- 
ferred. Already the blacksmith had sharpened 
the horses’ shoes, and as the boys cautiously 
made their way over the slippery surface a tall 
pyramid of logs creaked along behind them, the 
horses ’ sharp-shod shoes sending little splinters 
of ice flying as they stamped along. It was an 
enormous load, with extra logs piled on top of 
the binding chain to take up any slack. Had 
there been an incline it would have been im- 
possible for the driver to make it without 
having a portion of the logs shoot out over the 
horses’ heads. 


274 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


They stepped aside, admiring the manner in 
which the runners slipped along, requiring but 
little effort on the part of the horses once the 
sleds were under way. The driver, not to be 
recognized because of the darkness called down 
to them: 

‘H^m already one load ahead of that sucker. 
Said he^d beat me, eh? Jest wait till the scaler 
gits through this day’s work. He’ll use up 
more’n one shingle.” 

‘Ht’s the big teamster, who was the first to 
promise to be good,” laughed Stanley. 

After breakfast the boys made a round of the 
camp, first visiting the various yards. At one 
of these they found Daniels, working like a 
beaver, his associates seeing to it that he had 
no time for prolonged resting. McPherson was 
wandering about, slowly picking his way over 
the glare surface, greatly puzzled at the un- 
usual activity. Pausing before Daniels he 
peered sharply into his face before he could rec- 
ognize him in the dim light, and said, ‘ ‘ So you’re 
able to return to work, eh?” 

Daniels cast a quick glance at the two boys 
standing at one side and realized they had not 
informed the boss of their triumph in the bunk- 
house. ‘‘Yes, sir,” he politely answered, 
“But I’m awful busy.” 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 275 

‘‘I won’t interrupt yon then,” assured the 
pleased but amazed boss. 

By sunrise the crew had accomplished more 
than they had done in any half day since Abner 
departed. Nor did their zeal abate as the sun 
mounted a cloudless heaven and beat down on 
the clearing, floored with ice. Different team- 
sters and their crews were now keenly rivalling 
each other, and the company’s scaler could no 
longer complain that he had nothing to do. 

McPherson gazed at the unwonted activity 
skeptically and once observed to the boys, ‘Mt 
won’t last. They’ll begin to take it easy soon. 
Every minute I ’m expecting Daniels or Blue to 
say they’re took sick.” 

“You noticed how hard they were working 
this morning, early?” laughed Stanley. 

“I did. I’m thinking they’re up to some 
game,” moodily replied McPherson. 

“Then just step over here and let’s see if 
they’re sticking to their jobs,” invited Stanley. 

The three returned to the yard where Daniels 
was laboring. He was handling logs at what 
McPherson deemed an amazing rate of speed, 
but the moment he caught a glimpse of the young 
loggers he became a human dynamo in energy. 

“Not much like loafing,” queried Bub 
sweetly. 


276 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘H never saw a man work harder/’ puzzled 
McPherson. guess he did need a day’s rest 
after all.” 

‘*No, no,” quickly warned Stanley. ‘‘No 
more rests. He won’t ask for another one, 
rest easy.” 

“I have it,” mused McPherson. “They’re 
trying to show otf because you’re here. The 
minute you’re gone they’ll go into a slump 
again.” 

“I am convinced they’ll keep this pace right 
up till Abner or Hogan gets back, ’ ’ smiled Stan- 
ley. “The men confessed to me that they were 
a trifle behind their schedule, and they’re rac- 
ing now to see who can do the most to boost the 
average. When Abner returns you won’t have 
anything in the way of totals to be ashamed 
of.” 

Throughout the morning the high loads of 
logs moved to the landings, the horses easily 
pulling the sleds over the smooth roadway. 
Several times the boys were constrained to re- 
mind the barn-boss to see that the men took the 
corners at low speed, so heated grew the rivalry 
between the various teamsters. On returning 
from the landing the horses were sent along at 
a sharp run. The sled tenders had no sinecure 
that day. 


DISCIPLINE OF SQUAWTOOTH 277 

After dinner the boys were anxious to see if 
the men let up at all in their endeavors. To 
test this purpose better they withdrew far down 
an abandoned road, as though making for Briar 
Stream. After a thirty minutes^ absence they 
returned and quietly took up a position where 
they could observe the largest of the yards. 
The men were speeding up to the last notch, the 
yard crews being fully possessed by the same 
spirit that was urging on the teamsters to break 
all records. McPherson was walking aimlessly 
about, pausing occasionally to scratch his head 
and wonder what had happened. The men did 
not seem to see him, and as there was no need of 
orders he was well content to remain in the 
background. 

As the short afternoon drew into twilight the 
boys expected the men to slow down and merely 
mark time till the supper horn called them to 
quit. But as the shadows lengthened and 
merged into general dusk the loggers seemed 
jealous of each passing minute and stuck to 
their tasks. At last came the hour when it was 
permissible for all to stop work, but with one 
accord they remained, handling the logs by in- 
stinct. As the night grew thicker Stanley called 
a halt, fearing some accident might happen, a 


278 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


binding chain be improperly secured, or a horse 
recklessly driven off his feet. 

It was Daniels who pleaded, ‘‘Jest one more 
load. Mister Malcolm. WeWe got ’em all 
trimmed and need one more for good luck.” 

“Lawd bless ye,” roared the burly teamster, 
“I ain’t had so much fun since I had the measles. 
I must put one more load down to that landing. ’ ’ 
Then with a chuckle he added, “Ye see, that 
scaler has been fussing the last few days that 
he ain’t had nothing to do. Now we’re crowd- 
ing him so hard he ’s real peevish and wants us 
to quit. He ’ll burn oil a bit late to-night afore 
he figgers out this day’s haul.” 


CHAPTEE XV 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 

The boys were up bright and early next morn- 
ing and were delighted to find the cold weather 
continuing. What pleased them even more was 
to discover the crew at work, rushing the 
logs to the landing as if striving to reap some 
rich reward. An hour ^s inspection of the camp 
showed that all was moving smoothly, and the 
young loggers began seriously considering the 
advisability of starting for Mt. Crow. 

Stanley was inclined to spend one more day 
on the Squawtooth, but Bub, who was convinced 
the men would now hold their stride, urged an 
immediate departure north. 

The barn-boss was called into the consulta- 
tion and at once dampened Bub’s hopes by say- 
ing, “You’ll find the roads in mighty poor con- 
dition between here and Crow Mountain. This 
rain and freeze has given the well-travelled 
roads a fine coating of ice, but once you quit the 
main roads and strike into the tote-road you’ll 
be up against it. The icy crust will hold you 

279 


280 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


younkers up all right, but a boss will find bot- 
tom every time he planks down a hoof. That 
means cruel slow footing and the nags are sure 
to be cut up bad.’^ 

Guess that settles our going back to-day,^’ 
grumbled Bub. ‘ ‘ I never thought of the nags. ’ ^ 

An escape from the situation was soon of- 
fered them, however, as the scaler called them to 
his camp when they were moodily returning to 
the bunk-house, and informed, ‘‘Someone wants 
to speak to you, Malcolm, from Hood Moun- 
tain. TheyVe been holding the line while I 
found you.’’ 

The Great Northern camps were connected 
with telephones and Stanley was soon remov- 
ing the receiver, expecting that the mill super- 
intendent, Hatton, was at the other end of the 
line. 

He was accordingly surprised when the voice 
announced, “This is Professor Carlton speak- 
ing. Is that you, Stanley?” 

Stanley was overjoyed to hear the voice of 
his old friend, who had so staunchly befriended 
him and Abner and Bub during the previous 
spring, when the three sought safety at Hood 
Mountain from the murderous attacks of Big 
Nick, a half-breed. Professor Carlton at that 
time was recovering his lost health by living 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 


281 


an outdoor life in Maine, and to provide him- 
self with a hit of an income had accepted the 
position of fire-warden on Hood. Although the 
boy was facing the rough log wall, the moment 
he heard the low, gentle voice of the professor it 
semed as though the latter was in the room, and 
he unconsciously removed his hat and bowed 
as he replied: 

“Not only am I here, but Bub Thomas is here 
also.’’ Then over his shoulder to Bub, “It’s 
Professor Carlton.” 

Bub instantly shoved him aside and appro- 
priated the receiver and shouted, “Hello, Pro- 
fessor. Awful glad to hear your voice. How’s 
Miss Laura and — ” 

Stanley now had him by the neck and was 
brushing him aside, taking his turn at the tele- 
phone. “Never mind what that irresponsible 
child wants to say. Professor,” he cried. 
“How’s your daughter. Miss Laura — ” 

As Bub again sought to secure the instru- 
ment Professor Carlton could be heard laughing, 
and he remonstrated, “Suppose you take turns 
instead of fighting for it?” 

The boys at once struck a truce and Stanley 
was left in peaceful possession of the receiver. 
The professor, now speaking ‘very gravely and 
sadly explained, “I found myself badly upset 


282 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


over the tragic death of my only brother. I 
can’t go into the details now. They’re too pain- 
ful. But it unnerved me, and acting on Dr. 
Royce’s advice I came east and have returned 
to my old home on Hood Mountain. The min- 
ute I found out the Great Northern was operat- 
ing north of me on the Squawtooth I got Hat- 
ton on the wire and was pleased to learn you 
boys were up in that vicinity somewhere. Dr. 
Royce has accompanied me on this trip, and 
as he was willing we tramped into the first camp 
of the company, down here at the foot of old 
Hood.” 

‘‘Then why not keep right on tramping and 
come up here to the Squawtooth!” eagerly asked 
Stanley. 

“This rain has made bad traveling for a man 
of my years, ’ ’ replied the professor. ‘ ‘ My stay 
in Colorado has softened me up, I find. A year 
ago I should have thought nothing of the cruise. 
I shall hope to come up later. I am not pressed 
for time, as I have practically a year’s leave of 
absence.” 

Stanley turned and briefly explained the con- 
versation to Bub. The latter at once seized the 
receiver and said, “This is Thomas. Now, 
listen, Professor; we’ve got to get back to Mt. 
Crow, or we’d swing down to see you. If you 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 


283 


canT do as we suggest we ^11 let Mt. Crow slide 
and come anyway. But as you’re out for your 
health why don’t you and the doctor come right 
through to the Mt. Crow camp? You can make 
it easy. In a few days, as soon as the tote road 
gets settled down, two sleds of supplies are to 
leave here for Crow. We had expected to stay 
and take them up. But it’s important we go on 
ahead, as Abner and the others will be worried 
about us. Yes, Abner, Noisy Charlie and an 
old trapper, whom you’ve never met, but whom 
you’ll enjoy a heap, are up there now. Why 
can’t you and your friend make this camp within 
the next few days, when the tote sleds will bring 
you up to Crow as neat as a whistle? We’ll 
give orders for the tote men to wait here till 
you come. We’ll go on ahead and prepare the 
folks for your arrival. What say?” 

Professor Carlton excused himself for a mo- 
ment and talked hurriedly with someone. 
Then he replied, ‘ H ’d like to do it fine. But Dr. 
Royce is inclined to doubt his ability as a pedes- 
trian through the woods. He’s not used to 
snowshoes; in fact, he’s had but little experi- 
ence in outdoor hardships. I could make it 
after a day’s rest, but I fear it would be beyond 
him.” 

Bubj crestfallen, repeated this to Stanley, who 


284 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


ill turn impatiently took the receiver and asked 
the professor if he and his friend would make 
the jaunt, provided they didnT have to walk. 
Professor Carlton laughed and quizzed, “But 
we have no airships, you know.” 

“Is the camp boss there!” asked Stanley. 

He was standing at the professor’s elbow, 
came the reply. “Is that you, Dulton!” asked 
Stanley. Eeceiving an affirmative he directed, 
“Fix up a sled so that Professor Carlton and 
Dr. Eoyce can ride comfortably from your camp 
to the Squawtooth camp. Make it very com- 
fortable for them. Have a man drive them up 
just as soon as they get ready to come. This is 
Stanley Malcolm talking and I’ll be responsible 
for your doing it.” 

“Just as you say. Mister Malcolm,” replied 
the boss. “I had thought of that while the pro- 
fessor was talking, but didn’t feel I had the 
authority to take a team off the work. If you 
stand back of the order they can start just when 
they please. I’ll arrange something so they can 
ride as easy and warm as though they were in a 
Pullman car.” 

Professor Carlton was inclined to remon- 
strate with the boys for going to so much bother, 
but Stanley brushed all this aside and inquired 
when he might expect to see him. The profes- 


THE BOYS INTEECEDE 


285 


sor replied tliat he and his friend would start in 
a day or so, spending the night at the Squaw- 
tooth camp. With this understood between 
them Stanley announced his decision to return 
to Mt. Crow immediately and in a very happy 
frame of mind hung up the receiver. 

Bub, also, was much delighted, for now he and 
his comrade were at liberty to start north at 
once, hampered only by their blankets and a 
light load of supplies. The anticipation of 
cruising in search of the axeman, with the firm 
crust furnishing an excellent footing, excited the 
young loggers to a high degree of enthusiasm. 
Making for the wangan they rapidly made out a 
list for the wangan clerk to fill for the tote sleds, 
not forgetting to include the violin for Cub. 
Then making a final round of the camp they pro- 
cured their packs and started off on their new 
adventures. 

As they were about to leave the main logging 
road and strike into the tote road Bub halted 
and suggested, ‘^So long as we haven ^t any 
horses to care for, why not swing out in a circle 
towards the Briar Stream camp, skirting it with- 
out stopping, and then strike due north and 
fetch Mt. Crow on the western sideT’ 

‘‘Great head, my boy,’’ admired Stanley. 
“It’ll be pleasanter ranging through the woods 


286 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


than following the tote road. Look at your 
compass and lead the way.’’ 

But Bub knew this section of the country in- 
timately, and confidently turned at right angles 
from the tote road. Once out of the beaten track 
they found the crust too insecure to hold them 
in many places. They strapped on their snow- 
shoes and found the footing excellent. At each 
step the surface crust would give, but not enough 
to allow the shoes to be encumbered. In those 
occasional icy spots where pools had formed 
in hollows and frozen solid the creepers kept 
them from slipping. Because of these condi- 
tions they made fast time and were soon at a 
point where they must turn to the north or 
emerge into the clearing surrounding the Briar 
Stream camp. 

Just as Bub shifted their course there came 
to their ears a loud outcry. Halting, they 
listened, each sensing the clamor was not the 
usual confusion associated with a crew of men 
peacefully at work. The din increased and 
grew louder, and Bub exclaimed; 

‘‘The men are chasing something. Kick off 
your shoes. It may be a bear that was foolish 
enough to leave his den during the thaw. Or 
the men may have dug one out. ’ ’ 

Stanley followed his example, and then they 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 


287 


waited. Soon there came the sound of a man 
crashing through the underbrush, succeeded 
quickly by the spectacle of a youth sliding and 
slipping and wading through the forest litter. 
He was badly winded and his face evidenced 
alarm if not fright. 

‘Ht^s young Simpkins, the scaler. A new 
man and a good one,’^ cried Bub. ‘‘Now what 
in the world are they chasing him forT’ 

A short distance behind came a straggling 
line of woodsmen, apparently in pursuit. Lead- 
ing them was a tall, spare man, whom Stanley 
at once recognized as Spar, the company’s for- 
ester, whom he had met on his first visit to the 
Squawtooth. 

“What’s your hurry, Simpkins?” called out 
Bub cheerily. 

The young man halted and stared wildly 
about till he located them. Then he advanced, 
crying, “Good Lord, Thomas, save me from 
those fellows. They’ve chased me more’n a 
mile, threatening all sorts of things.” 

“Hi!” commanded Stanley stepping forward 
to confront Spar, who now came up, his lean 
face heavy with anger. “Stop the battle. 
What’s all this fuss about? Why are the men 
away from their work?” 

“We’re after that thief,” passionately cried 


288 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Spar, coming to a halt and pointing a quivering 
finger at the pale-faced scaler. 

‘‘Hard words,’’ warned Bub. “Go slow. 
Simpkins is honest.” 

“Of course I’m honest, Thomas,” tearfully 
cried Simpkins. “But Mr. Spar flew into a 
rage this morning and accused me of stealing 
some of his notes on forestry. What do I want 
of his old notes ? I’m not interested in forestry. 
I’ll bet they’re all wrong, anyway.” 

With a howl of rage at this reflection on his 
knowledge, the one hobby of his life. Spar 
dashed towards the speaker, but Stanley checked 
him. “Soft pedal,” he restrained. “Let’s get 
at the truth of this. Give us the facts.” 

The men had halted, now grinning sheepishly. 
It was obvious that they had not taken Spar’s 
loss as a calamitous happening, but had un- 
dertaken the pursuit as a pleasing diver- 
sion. 

Controlling himself with a mighty effort Spar 
explained, “Last night I made some extensive 
entries in my note-book. It was the summary 
of my system of tree analyses — and very im- 
portant. I left the book on the table and there 
was no one in the scaler’s camp but this — Simp- 
kins. I was gone but a few minutes. When I 
returned I found him much disturbed, as would 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 


289 


be natural in a guilty man — and the note-book 
was gone. By his own tell no one had entered 
the camp while I was absent. So he must have 
stolen it.’’ 

“There ain’t none o’ the crew what want any 
note-books filled with fol-de-rol figgers and this 
danged forestry stuff,” spoke up one of the crew 
in contempt. “But we don’t want no thieves 
in our camp.” 

“He jest as good as confessed he swiped it,” 
said another man. “ So we ’re going to give him 
the codfish and then turn him adrift to make the 
settlements the best he can.” 

“Hooray fer the codfish!” yelled another. 

“What have you to say, Simpkins?” asked 
Stanley, eyeing the young man dubiously. He 
knew Spar, if eccentric and wholly absorbed in 
his forestry work, was a thoroughly honorable 
man. He also realized that the forester would 
take no loss so deeply to heart as his precious 
field notes. 

Simpkins for a moment looked confused, 
swept his gaze hurriedly over the brawny circle 
hemming him in, and then asked, ‘ ^ May I speak 
with you two alone for a minute?” 

“Let him speak out before all of us,” sternly 
insisted Spar. “That book not only has my 
personal observations on the correct and eco- 


290 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


nomic stand system, as others must come to view 
it in time, but it also — 

^ ^ He wants to git one side where he can duck 
and run,’^ jeered one of the crew. 

<<Why canT you say what youVe got to say 
before allT’ asked Stanley. 

‘ ‘ Because I can T, ’ ’ groaned Simpkins. Then 
in a low voice, ‘^They wouldn’t believe me if I 
told the exact truth.” 

‘ ‘But you can say whether you took it or not 
impatiently insisted Stanley. 

“Take it!” cried the scaler in deep disgust. 
“I wouldn’t give a Canadian nickel for a cart- 
load of his old notes!” 

“I should say he has doubly convicted him- 
self,” cried Spar wrathfully. “When a man 
will speak like that about the noble — ” 

“Give me sixty seconds alone with you,” 
broke in Simpkins. “It’s what Mr. Whitten 
would do and what he ’d want you to do. I can’t 
escape. I’m winded.” 

“All right; we’ll step aside with you,” spoke 
up Bub. ‘ ‘ This way, Stanley. ’ ’ 

Spar fumed at this indulgence and insisted 
that being the one most vitally interested he 
should be allowed to join the boys. But Simp- 
kins warmly opposed this. Stanley motioned 
for the forester to remain silent, and while the 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 


291 


men widened the circle to give privacy their 
eyes were keenly watchful for any attempt to 
escape. But Simpkins had no thought of flight. 
Drawing the two boys close to him he eagerly 
whispered, ^‘They either wouldnT believe the 
truth, or else it would drive some of them from 
camp. I saw the note-book go through the win- 
dow. The room was hot, and Spar never wants 
any fresh air — says it blows his papers about. 
The minute he quit the shack I threw back the 
window. Just, before he returned an arm 
reached in and a hand grabbed the book from 
the table. It was the window at the back of 
the camp, and that^s why Spar, out in front, 
didn’t see the thief.” 

‘^But why didn’t you tell Spar this!” won- 
dered Stanley. 

‘‘Because the arm I saw, bare to above the 
elbow, was not the arm of a woodsman. Also, 
because I caught a brief glimpse of a face, so 
wild and hairy that it unnerved me. I’d heard 
yarns about a mysterious logger, who hung 
round Mt. Crow. I’d mentioned it to Abner 
Whitten. When I spoke of it he snapped me 
up mighty quick ; then softened down and 
warned me never to repeat such tales to anyone 
in camp and always make light of any such 
yarns if any of the men told them. He said 


292 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


the camp as a whole would behave more foolish 
than any individual would, and once a silly 
panic started he^d lose his crew before he could 
bring the men hack to reason. That’s why I 
didn’t dare tell even Spar. He wouldn’t have 
believed it. But he would have told the men 
what I said to ridicule me. So I kept shut. ’ ’ 
‘‘No wonder he looked disturbed when Spar 
came back,” murmured Bub. 

“I was hoping he wouldn’t notice the book 
was gone till the next day, that’s to-day, and 
would think he’d dropped it somewhere,” eag- 
erly continued Simpkins. 

“You vouch for Simpkins?” asked Stanley. 
“To the limit,” stoutly replied Bub. “So 
will Abner and Charlie. He wouldn’t steal 
anything any more than I would. ’ ’ 

“I believe his explanation,” said Stanley. 
“And I think it was mighty plucky of him to 
keep his mouth shut so the company wouldn’t 
lose any of this crew.” Then turning back to 
the irate forester he said : 

‘ ‘ Mr. Spar, you and the men are wrong. ’ ’ A 
gasp of amazement greeted this opening remark. 
Frowning, Stanley continued, “You’re dead 
wrong. Simpkins never stole that book. He 
knows who did. He has told us and I can prove 
it to you later. Until I get to it you must take 


THE BOYS INTEECEDE 


293 


my word for it. We know the thief. It is pos- 
sible that we shall recover the book. Eh, 
Bubr’ 

‘‘We stand a good chance,’’ readily agreed 
Bub. “But Simpkins isn’t guilty.” 

“He’s thrown the blame on some honest chop- 
per,” howled one of the crew. 

‘ ‘ Hardly, ’ ’ smiled Stanley. ‘ ‘ The thief never 
worked in the camp. That’s all I can say now. 
Simpkins has shown a great deal of good judg- 
ment in not explaining in full to you. He was 
under orders from Abner Whitten to say noth- 
ing. It sounds mysterious, but it ’s all very sim- 
ple. Mr. Spar, Thomas knows Simpkins and 
vouches for him as he would for me. I know 
his explanation is true. Can you believe me and 
be convinced you’ve made a mistake — a very 
natural mistake under the circumstances 

Spar was dazed for a few moments. Then 
he replied, “If you say he didn’t do it and you 
know who did I must believe you, Malcolm. I 
apologize to Simpkins and hope he doesn’t hold 
any hard feelings. But I’d like mighty well to 
know who did take the book.” 

“And we hope to tell you soon and return 
the book,” assured Stanley. “On our next trip 
down here, which will be very soon, we will tell 
you all, whether we have the book or don’t.” 


294 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘^Of course I’ve got to be satisfied,” grum- 
bled Spar. ‘^You men understand that when 
Malcolm and Thomas vouch for anyone that 
settles it. We made a mistake. Now let’s get 
back to work. Come on, Simpkins.” 

As the crew turned and tramped noisily back 
to camp Bub scowled heavily at his snowshoes 
and sighed mournfully. 

‘^What’s wrong?” asked Stanley. 

‘‘Everything,” bitterly answered Bub. 
“Don’t you see, if the axeman cruised as far 
south as this he’s got another measly base of 
supplies. It means we may not find him even 
after we’ve cruised all over Mt. Crow. He’s 
too foxy a chap to come down here in the night 
and attempt to make back to the west side of 
Crow in the daytime. He’s got some place be- 
tween here and the shack where you were en- 
tertained with fiddle music.” 

“That’s probably true,” mused Stanley. 
“But if he’s got a hiding-place it’s pretty apt 
to be in line with Crow and we may strike a 
sign of it on cruising north. You know this 
country. Do you have any idea where he might 
hang out?” 

Bub pursed his lips and thought intently for a 
moment; then he slowly said, “The most nat- 
ural place would be along the upper end of 


THE BOYS INTERCEDE 


295 


Briar Stream, where he would have good shel- 
ter, plenty of wood and water. Still you never 
can tell where a crazy man will den up, any 
more than you can tell what he’ll do.’^ 


CHAPTER XVI 


KECOVEKING SPAE^S NOTE-BOOK 

The detour towards Briar Stream and the meet- 
ing with the loggers had cost the boys consider- 
able time. Bub slowed down after the first mile 
and regretted, ‘Ht’s no use to rush. We might 
as well take it easy. We couldn’t make the west 
side of Mt. Crow if we raced every step of the 
way. Again, we must make our camp before 
dark, as otherwise we might walk right by the 
axeman. N ow, I wonder ! ’ ’ 

‘‘Wonder about what?” queried Stanley. 

“Just what we’ll do if we locate this fellow,” 
mused Bub. 

Stanley grinned in a sickly fashion and con- 
fessed, “I haven’t given that point much 
thought. The chances are we no sooner dis- 
cover him than we’ll begin figuring how to get 
away.” 

“But weVe promised Spar to get hack the 
book,” reminded Bub. 

‘ ‘ Of course our doing that all depends on our 

296 


EECOVERING SPARES NOTE BOOK 297 


finding the axeman’s hiding-place while he’s 
away. ’ ’ 

‘‘Also providing he has left the book behind,” 
supplemented Bub. 

‘ ‘ Exactly, ’ ’ agreed Stanley. ‘ ‘ What are you 
looking for?” 

“I thought we might find his trail,” replied 
Bub. “If he was at the Briar Stream camp 
last night he must have left a trail. He ’s heav- 
ier than either of us and whether he traveled 
with or without snowshoes he must have left 
signs.” 

“Maybe at night this crust would stiffen up 
and hold him,” suggested Stanley. 

Bub admitted that while this generally would 
be true there would be many places where he 
would slump through. Then he ranged in a 
zig-zag back and forth, with Stanley holding a 
straight course and moving slowly. At the end 
of an hour’s tiresome cruising Bub insisted the 
axeman could not have passed that way. “ I ’ve 
ranged a good mile from the bank of the stream 
eastward,” he said. “If he’d come this way 
I surely would have crossed his trail. ’ ’ 

“Crust held him up,” insisted Stanley. 

“Only in spots,” qualified Bub. 

Stanley might have carried the argument far- 
ther but at that juncture, just as he was fore- 


298 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ing his way through a clump of gray birch along 
the. bank of the stream, something seemed to 
leap up from under his feet, twitching one of 
his shoes out of the snow and nearly capsizing 
him. At the same moment a sapling gave him a 
vicious cut across the face. 

With a startled exclamation he sought to leap 
backwards, forgetting his shoes, and in the next 
second he was flat on his back, wondering what 
had happened. 

Buh, who was walking a few rods abreast of 
him, hurried to his assistance, crying, ‘‘What’s 
the matter! I heard you cry out before you 
fell.” 

‘ ‘ Something jumped up out of the snow right 
in front of me,” answered Stanley. “Suppose 
it was a partridge, burrowing under the snow!” 

“If it was a partridge he got caught under 
this crust and your shoe broke his prison, letting 
him escape. Sometimes they do get trapped 
that way.” 

“Nearly knocked me off my feet,” ruefully 
added Stanley, as he righted himself. 

“Guess it would take a pretty strong bird to 
do that,” puzzled Bub. “Let me investigate.” 
And he forthwith entered the clump of saplings 
and began searching. 

“One of the saplings must have been em- 


EECOVEEING SPAE^S NOTE-BOOK 299 


bedded in the crust, for in springing upright it 
slashed me across the face,^^ informed Stanley. 

‘^Huh!^’ cried Bub. ^‘Then I ought to find 
an answer mighty quick. Ah, here it is. Come 
here.’’ 

Stanley gingerly advanced and found his 
friend holding a long thin piece of wire in his 
hand. At one end was a slip-noose. ‘‘It’s a 
snare,” explained Bub, beginning to scrutinize 
the surrounding forest keenly. “Don’t you see, 
the sapling had been forced down and made 
fast to a root, or something, with this noose all 
ready to catch the game. You blundered into 
it, and in whipping upward it jolted you a trifle, 
while the end of the sapling cut your face.” 

“Some of the loggers have been setting 
snares, ’ ’ said Stanley. 

“I don’t think so,” gravely doubted Bub. 
“In the first place, no logger would go to that 
bother when the company is setting up three 
square meals a day. Once they finish their 
work they leave the grub question to the cook. 
If the food doesn’t suit you’d hear them com- 
plaining ’way down to Umbagog. Besides, a 
logger wouldn’t have any wire like this. He’d 
have hay-wire, and that’s all. It’s no logger, 
but someone in need of food. He was after 
rabbits. This swamp bottom is a fine place to 


300 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


snare them in. After a light snow you’d find 
it filled with their tracks, where they’ve been 
browsing, or playing, or trying to get away 
from a fox.” 

His decision led them to look further and 
soon he had sprung several snares while in one 
already sprung they found a half-eaten rabbit. 
‘‘Some wild thing found this bunny waiting 
for him and by leaping up managed to get him. 
He’s eaten part of him, but was unable to hold 
the top of the sapling down till he’d finished 
the rest ; or else he was frightened away. Well, 
that teaches us a lot we wanted to know.” 

“Glad you see it like that,” mumbled Stan- 
ley. “It’s taught me to be careful in going 
through gray birches; and that’s all.” 

Bub smiled in a superior fashion, and gently 
chided, “Have patience, my son, and I’ll show 
you. Let’s push out on to the stream. 
We ought to find some interesting signs 
there. ’ ’ 

Suiting the action to the word he cleared the 
last fringe of saplings and soon was slowly 
making across the snow-covered brook. In the 
middle he halted and pointed triumphantly at 
his feet. There, molded in the frozen snow, 
were several tracks of a large foot. 

“They’re pointing to the west,” he whis- 


EECOVEEING SPAE’S NOTE-BOOK 301 


pered, letting his voice fall as though he feared 
detection. ‘‘The man crossed to our side be- 
low us and recrossed at this point. He came 
to visit his snares.’’ 

“You think it’s the axeman?” asked Stan- 
ley wishing he were in the cover of the ever- 
greens instead of standing exposed to view on 
the farther surface of the brook. 

“No other,” declared Bub. “And that’s 
why we haven’t struck his trail. In beating 
north from his night visit to the Briar Stream 
camp he kept to the west shore of the stream. 
These snares show almost positively that we’re 
near his hiding-place. He’d never snare game 
down here and then tote it ’way up to Mt. Crow. 
We’ll have to do a little Injun work.” 

Saying this he crossed the west bank of the 
brook and struck out in a straight line due west. 
His companion quickly realized what he was 
searching for. He was after the trail of the 
mysterious trapper. Soon he halted and re- 
turned at a half trot. 

“It’s there,” he briefly announced. “It 
runs north and south. It shows he follows the 
west side of the stream, rounds Flat-Top Eidge 
on the west, and then makes in back of the 
mountain. We ought to locate him very near 
here.” 


302 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Shall we follow his trail?’’ nervously asked 
Stanley, somehow losing his relish for the game. 

‘‘We’ll follow it by keeping abreast of it,” 
replied Bub. “So far there’s nothing to show 
he visits this side of the brook, except when he 
inspects his rabbit snares. After we’ve gone 
a hit farther I’ll cross again and see if I can 
find his tracks making north. Back there they 
were making both north and south, showing he 
went down towards the camp and has passed 
this point in returning. When I strike a place 
that only shows them going south we’ll know 
we ’ve pushed on above him and must heat back. 
I now begin to believe we shall find him.” 

Stanley did not know whether to be glad or 
regretful at this prospect, but being too proud 
to demur he silently followed his companion 
along the east bank of the brook. Several times 
Bub left him and cruised across and disap- 
peared in the woods, only to return each time 
and announce that the tracks still led north. At 
last he came back and gleefully informed Stan- 
ley, “We’ve got ahead of him. There’s only 
one set, pointing south.” 

This discovery caused them to withdraw from 
the brook into the shelter of the evergreens 
and lay fresh plans. They must either wait 
for the strange being to pass the point already 


RECOVERING SPARES NOTE-BOOK 303 


inspected, and then dog him till he halted for 
the night, or they must cruise south and seek 
him out. Neither favored the idea of running 
the risk of meeting him face to face. It seemed 
much less hazardous to allow him to draw 
ahead and then follow him. 

‘‘Say!’^ excitedly exclaimed Stanley, beating 
his hands together, ‘^what’s to hinder his using 
his eyes and noticing your trail when he gets 
up to the point across? If he isn’t entirely a 
madman won’t he observe that someone from 
the east has crossed the brook and inspected 
his trail? He strikes me as being quite a 
crafty woodsman.” 

Bub’s jaw fell and his face was filled with dis- 
may as he replied, ‘‘Never once thought of it! 
Wouldn’t Charlie sneer at me! I’ve been tak- 
ing it for granted all the time that we were 
behind him. Of course he’ll see my trail. A 
cow could follow it. The tables are turned, my 
son.” 

“Instead of trailing him he may be trailing 
us, ’ ’ nervously supplied Stanley. 

Bub nodded and gazed apprehensively at 
their back track. He would not have been sur- 
prised to behold an uncouth figure emerging 
into view at any minute. What added to their 
nervousness was the realization that the stran- 


304 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ger might already have reached the place where 
Bub^s trail joined the old one. Of course it 
might be hours before he arrived there, or he 
might swing farther west and see nothing. But 
the fact that in every instance where they had 
investigated the west bank they had, until now, 
found the two sets of tracks side by side was 
evidence that the axeman had a definite route 
and followed it closely. This gave them scant 
leeway for careful thought. The afternoon 
was drawing to a close and they should be about 
the task of building a shelter for the night. 
There was wood to be gathered and a supper 
to be cooked. But how could they perform 
these necessary tasks while fearing the axeman 
was doggedly following their trail? 

‘‘I begin to feel as though he was about to 
pounce upon us,^’ muttered Stanley. 

“Now youVe got me to feeling that way,” 
complained Bub. “One thing is sure; he can 
follow us to this spot blindfolded. WeVe got 
to break away and leave a blind trail. Off with 
your shoes and get them on with the tails to the 
front.” 

As Stanley had been taught this simple les- 
son in deception while trapping with the boys 
and Foster Farnum he soon had the shoes ad- 
justed and awaited Bub’s further orders. 


EECOVERING SPAR’S NOTE-BOOK 305 


‘‘Now,” directed that young logger, “you make 
for the northeast until you hear me whistle. 
Then swing down to join me. Move fast as we 
haven’t much time.” 

Puzzled as to just what his friend had in 
mind, but relying entirely upon his judgment 
when it came to woodhraft Stanley awkwardly 
maneuvered his way in the desired course and 
soon was rewarded by hearing a low signal. 
Turning to the southeast he soon came up on 
Bub in a deep hollow. 

“Off with your shoes quick,” commanded 
Bub. “Here, don’t kneel or sit. Lean on me 
and be careful not to cut up the ice. I couldn’t 
signal you to join me till I’d found a place 
where the water had frozen solid enough not to 
leave a sign of our moccasins. I guess Mr. 
Wildman will be puzzled when he reaches the 
end of our first trail and finds it splits into two 
trails, each coming towards him. If he does 
get suspicious that we reversed our shoes he 
will follow one of the trails this far. Now it’s 
up to us to quit this locality without leaving 
any trail. Follow me, and walk as if on eggs.” 

Stanley did so for nearly a quarter of a mile. 
Bub keeping to the hollow where the snow had 
frozen to the consistency of ice. When they 
reached the end they found the land rose on all 


306 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


sides, presenting a five-foot bank with every 
promise of deep snow beyond. Their problem 
now was to quit the icy hollow without leaving 
any signs either on the slope or the snow be- 
yond. But Bub had figured out this dilemma, 
and silently pointed to the spruce and fir grow- 
ing up from the hollow. Warning his com- 
panion to climb as gently as possible, so as not 
to dislodge a noticeable amount of twigs and 
bark, he set the example by skillfully climbing 
a tree till he was high above the hollow. Stan- 
ley did likewise and beheld the branches of an- 
other spruce interlocking with those on which 
he rested. Bub ’s plan was now obvious. They 
would simply cross into the next thicket and 
keep to the branches till some rods from the 
hollow. Then they could drop to the ground, 
resume their shoes and find a suitable camp- 
ing place. 

They paused for a minute to rest and were 
whispering in low tones when Stanley pressed 
his friend ^s arm and cautioned him to be still. 

‘H heard something down the gully,” he mur- 
mured. 

‘^Eed squirrel,” whispered Bub. ‘‘Or the 
wind, breaking off a twig or a dead branch.” 

“Wind isnT blowing,” replied Stanley. “I 
feel as if— 



Crouching low in their hiding-place they stared through 
a small opening and waited. Then they realized that 
Bub’s precaution had been well-taken. For as they looked 
they caught a brief, fleeting glimpse of a tall, gaunt figure, 
bowing low and running up the gully. See Page 307. 


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EECOVERING SPARES NOTE-BOOK 307 


‘‘Don’t make me feel creepy,” groaned Bub. 

Stanley gave him a nervous little nudge and 
both sought to peer down the hollow. The 
branches were thickly laced and only in occa- 
sional openings could they get a view of the 
back track. Now they both heard an unfamil- 
iar sound. It was a pad, pad, as if someone 
were running heavily. Crouching low in their 
hiding-place they stared through a small open- 
ing and waited. 

Then they realized that Bub ’s precaution had 
been well-taken. For as they looked they 
caught a brief, fleeting glimpse of a tall, gaunt 
figure, bowing low and running up the gully. 
It passed from view almost as soon as it en- 
tered their restricted line of vision, but they 
could hear it more plainly, now that the man 
was drawing close to them. Each read the 
other’s thoughts. Each knew the other was 
admiring the cunning of the strange man in 
being able to see through their ruse and follow 
what he must have studied out as their only 
avenue of surreptitious escape. 

Now he was almost under them and they could 
distinctly hear his deep, regular breathing. 
They could not see him, as a perfect maze of 
gnarled limbs and foliage screened him from 
view. But both fancied from the absence of 


308 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


any sound that he was standing still and scru- 
tinizing his surroundings. For several min- 
utes he remained thus, as motionless as a 
statue. Then they caught the soft pad, pad of 
his retreating foot-steps, and again caught a 
brief glimpse of his bowed figure as he made 
back towards the brook. 

Stanley was for descending at once, but some 
subtle instinct told Bub to keep quiescent. For 
a good ten minutes he compelled his friend to 
remain in the branches. Then he pointed down 
the hollow and Stanley mentally acknowledged 
the prudence of this precaution. For around 
a corner of the gully peered the hairy, distorted 
face of the axeman. It disappeared almost in- 
stantly. It proved that he was apt at setting 
traps other than those for rabbits. 

‘‘He knows we’re here,” tremulously whis- 
pered Stanley, heartily wishing they had 
pushed on to the horse-hovel. 

“No,” assured Bub. “He’s simply sus- 
picious. He can’t figure out that we could fol- 
low any other course than up this gully. 
Reaching the end of it he failed to find where 
we’d quit it. Then he knew that he must have 
been mistaken, or else that we’re hiding some- 
where. But it’s only guesswork with him, or 
he’d be up here in the midst of us.” 


EECOVERING SPAR’S NOTE-BOOK 309 


‘‘Don’t speak of it that way,” groaned Stan- 
ley. “I’m scared a hundred times worse than 
I was when Big Nick almost caught me.” 

“Danger’s over I” placidly announced Bub, 
as a wild cry floated to their ears. “He’s off 
on another track. Hear him shout ? One thing 
is sure, he can’t be separated from his voice. 
It’s going farther and farther away.” 

The wild notes came back to them for some 
time, but each moment marked a diminuendo in 
volume until it might be mistaken for a faint 
echo. 

“All of which permits us to take advantage 
of this cosy little spot with its sheltering banks 
and make our camp right here,” said Bub. 

Unwittingly they had halted at an ideal spot 
for making their camp. The thick growth and 
the sloping banks cut off any wind, while fuel 
was to be had in abundance. For water they 
decided to melt snow rather than to risk the 
sound of an axe in chopping through ice. Their 
reaction was so strong after their narrow es- 
cape at being discovered that neither seriously 
considered a return of the menace. Conse- 
quently they grew light-hearted as they busied 
themselves about the old, familiar task of erect- 
ing a lean-to and thatching it thickly with 
boughs. Nor did Bub hesitate to build a roar- 


310 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ing fire in front of this shelter. From their well 
stocked packs they prepared their supper and 
then composed themselves for the laying of new 
plans. 

Neither relished the idea of being followed. 
The sensation was entirely different than that 
experienced when following someone. Yet 
their quest of the axeman had been deliberately 
decided upon and both were loth to suggest an 
abandonment of it. Their success, too, in evad- 
ing his swift pursuit, their quickness in fore- 
seeing what he would do when once he learned 
he was being spied upon, bolstered up their 
courage and caused them to believe they had 
met cunning with cunning and had won a nota- 
ble victory. 

It was Bub who suggested the daring plan of 
following the axeman back across the brook 
before the darkness of night could impede 
them. 

^‘If he thought he was followed the idea has 
now gone from his head and he’s giving himself 
up to some crazy notion,” urged Bub. ‘Ht’s 
our duty to learn more about him. From all 
we’ve seen and heard he is some poor unfor- 
tunate, who ought to be captured and put in 
some proper place for treatment. There’s no 
doubt but what the man’s insane, still he ought 


RECOVERING SPAR’S NOTE-BOOK 311 


not to be left to shift for himself like some 
wild animal.” 

^‘He’s a well educated man,” assured Stan- 
ley. “His language wasn’t that of an ignorant 
person. But wouldn’t the best way be to tell 
everything to Abner and raise a posse and go 
after him?” 

“But we’ve first got to find out where he 
hides, remonstrated Bub. “He isn’t stop- 
ping up back of Mt. Crow, or he wouldn’t be 
snaring rabbits down here on Briar Stream. 
You said he seemed to be well stocked with grub 
in the shack where you spent the night. If 
that’s the case, he doesn’t plan to go back there 
to-night. Seems to me he has several places 
where he puts in his time. We found a fire 
burning in the Crow camp, showing he had 
stopped there. Just beyond the mountain he 
has another place. Now he must have a third 
down in this direction. He was aiming for it 
when I knocked the torch out of his hand with 
the ham-bone up at the horse-hovel.” 

“Is there any place ’round here he would be 
likely to put up in?” asked Stanley. 

“There’s an old shack the poplar peelers 
used to use,” slowly replied Bub. “If I’d 
thought of it before I should have suggested 
that we camp there for the night. It is, or 


312 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


used to be, near here. I wonder if he’s using 
that? Let me think a bit; I haven’t seen it for 
several years and it’s just like a dozen and 
other such places I’ve found in the woods.” 

He frowned at the fire for some moments and 
then gave up with a shrug of his shoulders, 
saying, ‘‘All I know is that it’s near here. But 
whether it ’s on this side of the brook, or on the 
other side, whether it’s north or south of us I 
can’t say. Chances are it’s blown down by this 
time. Still, it ’s worth a look. ’ ’ 

“Then we’d better be going,” said Stanley, 
eyeing the fire regretfully. “Shall we leave 
everything here?” 

“Sure. We intend coming back this way,” 
replied his companion. “If we can locate him 
then we’ll go to Abner and spin the yarn and 
point out just where he hides himself. Then 
we’ll get the men and visit each of his places. 
In that way we’re sure to pick him up.” 

Banking their fire they hung their packs on 
the boughs of a spruce and tucking their snow- 
shoes under their arms rapidly made down the 
frozen gully, or hollow. By the time they 
reached the spot where they had removed their 
shoes the light was fast vanishing; yet it was 
sufficient to make out the man’s trail. He had 
foUowocI f^tanley’s tracks m entering the gully, 


EECOVERING SPARES NOTE-BOOK 313 


but had departed over the trail left by Bub. 
This decided them that the latter trail must 
be the more direct course to where he would 
cross the brook and they lost no time in follow- 
ing it. At the brook the declining light barely 
enabled them to make out the large tracks where 
the unknown had passed to the west bank. 
Without any hesitation they crossed over and 
struck into the forest. Now the trail was 
scarcely discernible, but Bub in the lead, bend- 
ing low, managed to pick it out in spots. 

They had proceeded in this fashion about half 
a mile when a twinkle of light ahead brought 
them to a halt. Whispering to his friend to 
await for him Bub slipped otf his shoes and 
disappeared in the darkness. It is difficult to 
judge the distance of a fire at night. It may be 
a mile off, or a small blaze near at hand. In 
this instance Bhb quickly returned and an- 
nounced it was one of the old huts, formerly 
occupied by the poplar peelers in summer. So 
far as he could see it was empty. 

And I could see into it pretty well as there’s 
a dozen places where you could throw a cat 
through the crazy walls, ’ ’ he added. 

^‘But what if the man is keeping low just out- 
side, already to jump usP’ asked Stanley, in- 
clined to dislike pushing their quest any closer. 


314 THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


As if to reassure him there sounded the ring- 
ing blows of an axe. It was at a considerable 
distance and Stanley no longer held back. 

‘‘Just what good it will do to race up to his 
shack and look in and then hustle away is more 
than I can see,’’ he said. “We know where 
this place is. We might let it go at that.” 

‘ ‘ Just as you say, ’ ’ sighed Bub. ‘ ‘ But please 
remember I haven’t enjoyed the close acquaint- 
anceship with this chap that you have. You’ve 
spent a night with him. ’ ’ 

“I’m game,” retorted Stanley. “Besides, I 
promised Spar to rescue his precious notes. If 
they’re in sight we’ll take them.” 

Boldly approaching the light they soon found 
themselves in a small clearing. The shack was 
badly dilapidated and never intended for any- 
thing but a summer camp. A fire burned 
brightly inside, shining through various chinks 
in the walls and under the crazy door. One 
small aperture served as a window. It was in- 
nocent of glass or frame and the new occupant 
had made no pretense of covering it even with 
a blanket. Through this the two curious lads 
were soon peering. 

With a low cry of triumph Stanley pointed to 
a thick notebook almost beneath them on a pile 


EECOVERING SPARES NOTE-BOOK 315 


of faggots. Reaching in he seized this and 
hurriedly opened the pages. His gaze rested 
on the notes so highly esteemed by the forester. 
But what caused him to purse his lips in sur- 
prise were several entries written boldly across 
the original matter in a clear, brisk hand. One 
page bore the annotation, ‘ ‘ This is elementary. ’ ^ 
Another was more complimentary and said, 
‘‘Perfectly correct.’’ On another page was the 
ironical addition, “The Swiss have used this 
system for three hundred years.” None of the 
additions were in the handwriting of Spar. 

‘ ‘ Gee whiz ! This chap, whoever he is, is up 
in forestry!” gasped Bub. 

“That explains his mania for stopping the 
loggers from destroying the trees,” whispered 
Stanley. “But what is it I miss?” 

“You miss the sound of the axe, my son. It ’s 
time we were making back tracks.” 

Once they began to retreat they became ob- 
sessed by the fear that the axeman might be 
upon their heels. It was not until they had 
recrossed the brook that they paused to get their 
wind. Then only for a moment; for as they 
stood there they heard a wild, plaintive cry, one 
that impressed them as being filled with sor- 


row. 


316 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘Hll bet a cookie he’s discovered tbe book 
is missing/’ skivered Bub. ^‘Kun for it.” 

‘‘It’s almost as bad as when I took tbe bear’s 
cubs,” cried Stanley. 


CHAPTEE XVII 


THE SECRET OP THE LOST TRAIL 

Although fearing the gray axeman might seek 
to recover the note-book the boys were confident 
the night would mask their trail, and as it was 
out of the question to shift their camp they 
lost no time in returning to the head of the 
hollow, where their fire still burned. Eegard- 
less of possible discovery they heaped logs high 
on the fire until waves of heat radiated inside 
the lean-to. Then resolutely banishing all dis- 
quieting thoughts they rolled up in their blank- 
ets and went to sleep. But it was no part of 
their plan to linger in that vicinity once dawn 
came to reveal their hurried flight across the 
brook, and long before sunrise they were astir 
and ready for a hard day’s tramp. 

Eealizing that the man might again wander 
up the hollow and observe the charred embers 
of their camp-fire they risked meeting him by 
cruising westward for some distance, or until 
they reached a point where the icy banks of the 
317 


318 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


hollow allowed them to depart from it without 
leaving any signs. This done they resumed 
their snowshoes and struck otf for the western 
end of Flat-Top Ridge, hoping to make the back 
of Mt. Crow and after completing their inves- 
tigation return to the horse-hovel, where they 
could await the coming of Professor Carlton; 
or, if this be deemed inadvisable, continue on to 
camp. 

Now that they knew the axeman was staying 
in the poplar peelers’ old shack they had high 
hopes he would linger there, leaving the field 
open for their investigations. Two problems 
confronted them, each of which they were eager 
to solve. One was the location of the shack 
where Stanley had passed a portion of the night 
after his accident; the second was to find the 
place where Foster and Charlie had lost the 
trail. As Stanley’s ideas of where the hut was 
situated were extremely vague Bub urged that 
they first devote their efforts to searching for 
the spot where the broken trail had puzzled the 
veterans. From Foster’s careful description 
of the place they had but little doubt as to their 
success. 

‘‘Of course the trail has been destroyed by 
this time,” said Bub. “But that doesn’t mat- 
ter. If we can find the exact spot we can im- 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 319 


agine just how the trail began and ended and 
then wedl turn our attention to the surround- 
ings for an explanation. IVe got a shadow 
of an idea in my head which I think will prove 
the answer. IFs the only logical explanation 
I can hit on.^’ 

‘‘But Foster and Charlie didnT hit on it,’^ 
demurred Stanley. 

“They would have had they taken more time 
and examined into it,’’ assured Bub. “But it 
was getting dusk. Both are more or less given 
to believing in the supernatural and the un- 
usual, especially Charlie. While brave as a 
lion against any danger he can understand, the 
things that seem to lack an explanation makes 
him drop the subject, satisfied with saying it’s 
the work of a bad spirit. That’s the Injun in 
him. ’ ’ 

“Of course there’s nothing that happens in 
these woods but what has a natural explana- 
tion,” said Stanley. 

“Correct, my son,” cried Bub. “And when 
you’ve thrown out all explanations except one, 
that one, if it answers the question, must be 
right, no matter how absurd it may seem. Un- 
til I’ve seen the place and found my explana- 
tion won’t fit in with the immediate surround- 
ings, such as trees and rock, and the like, I’m 


320 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


positive it will prove true. Anyway, we can’t 
fall down on the job any worse than Foster and 
Charlie did.” 

Mile after mile was covered, with only a brief 
pause for a cold lunch, and early in the after- 
noon the young loggers were rounding the ex- 
tremity of Flat-Top, with Mt. Crow opening up 
before them. If either was troubled by any 
compunctions in undertaking the adventure 
without first taking counsel with their friends 
it was now too late to regret it. And with reso- 
lute faces they began ascending a spur of the 
mountain, which in gradual slopes would lead 
them to the point where the old trapper and the 
Indian had been nonplussed. 

‘‘We’ve got to go straight up now,” puffed 
Bub, as he seized bush and branch to reinforce 
his foothold. “There’s a perpendicular ledge 
dead ahead. We’ve got to get above it.” 

The ascent was very difficult, owing to the re- 
cent rain, and it was only by pulling themselves 
along by the spruce and fir boughs that they 
made any headway. Finally they reached a 
level strip that seemed to wind round the west- 
ern side of the mountain. Eagerly following 
this they came out on a diminutive plateau. 
Bub carefully studied his bearings and then 
pointed onward and downward, and announced. 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 321 


‘‘That was the way Foster and Charlie came. 
This shelf ends in an abrupt ledge, so they 
couldnT have passed below this point. Above 
us iFs thickly wooded, and Foster was very 
careful to describe the route as making upward 
until they reached a point about half way up 
the mountain. Both he and Charlie said it was 
easy walking, although growing dark, because 
they came to an opening before a ledge. This 
is the spot, I^m positive.” 

“Then find the place where the trail was 
broken, ’ ’ whispered Stanley. 

Bub nodded and made down the rough way 
till below the shelf of rock. Facing about he 
placed himself as he believed the old trapper 
had been situated and carefully retraced his 
steps. Stanley watched him curiously. 

“The trail should have broken about here,” 
said Bub at last, when within fifteen or twenty 
feet of the edge of the ledge. 

“All right. Doctor Thomas, now tell us all 
about the case,” encouraged Stanley. 

“If the men were correct — ” 

“They were correct as far as they observed,” 
quickly broke in Stanley. “Leave that to the 
Indian.” 

‘ ‘Very well. Then there was no back track, ^ * 

md Bub, Whoever left the signs wnlM up 


322 THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

to this point and, despite the snow, simply van- 
ished.’’ 

‘^The men were agreed on that,” reminded 
Stanley. ‘‘We didn’t have to cruise way up 
here to verify that part of their yarn.” 

“But a man can’t vanish,” protested Bub. 
“He’s simply got to leave a trail in snow un- 
less — ” 

“Unless what?” snapped Stanley impatiently 
as his friend paused and curiously stared up- 
wards. 

“Unless he leaves the snow,” softly con- 
tinued Bub. “As that’s the only explanation 
we must believe he left the snow. He didn’t 
burrow under it and he didn’t make a flying 
leap over the ledge. That leaves only that 
fringe of trees that reach up above this shelf, 
having their roots fastened into the ledge be- 
low. Let ’s take a peep down and see how much 
of a drop this ledge has.” 

One glance revealed another shelf of rock 
some twenty feet below them. From that the 
mountain side sloped gradually down to the 
lowlands. 

“I see what you mean,” eagerly cried Stan- 
ley. “You think the man made his way down 
the face of this ledge by means of the 
trees,” 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 323 


had to,” simply returned Bub, still scan- 
ning the tangle of boughs keenly. 

‘‘But he couldn’t jump from where the trail 
ended and secure a hold on a tree trunk,” re- 
monstrated Stanley. ‘ ‘ Of course he might take 
a chance and leap into the thickest of the boughs, 
where they hang over the lip of the ledge 
and — ” 

“And leave a lot of signs on the snow in doing 
so,” laughed Bub. “No; he used the trees as 
an elevator in descending, but he got into them 
from the point where the trail ended. Huh! 
It must have been those strong boughs that we 
make out over our heads. He couldn’t jump 
and catch them — Of course he had a rope hang- 
ing down, waiting for him. How stupid and 
slow of us! Don’t you see? It’s a way he of- 
ten used in getting down over the cliff. The 
rope hung down, one end being tied round the 
trunk and passing out over the end of the 
strongest boughs. All he had to do was shin 
up the rope and gain the tree-trunk and then 
descend. He would naturally pull the rope up 
after him, for if he’d left it Foster would have 
seen it.” 

“That must be right,” said Stanley. “Now 
we’ve solved the little mystery shall we beat 
back to the horse-hovel? I’m about done up.” 


324 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘But why should he go to such pains to get 
down over the ledge U’ puzzled Bub. “I 
haven’t satisfied my curiosity yet by any odds.” 

“Because he’s insane,” decided Stanley. 
“Why should he steal Spar’s note-book? For 
the same reason.” 

“Not so fast,” mumbled Bub. “Granted 
that he’s out of his head he’s still woodsman 
enough to keep out of sight and plan to hide his 
trail. He knows enough to get his living by 
snaring rabbits and swiping the company’s sup- 
plies. He manages to keep warm and has even 
made himself some rough garments out of feed- 
bags. He may be out of his head on some points 
and yet act perfectly rational in all other things. 
He has a mania to save the forest from loggers, 
according to your tell. But he also loves music 
and knew enough to bathe your head with hot 
water. I shouldn’t wonder that his taking 
Spar’s book was prompted because he is an edu- 
cated man and wanted paper and pencil. Now 
if he was irrational on all things he wouldn’t 
bother to break his trail. And if he hasn’t a 
logical excuse for wishing to hide it at this point 
he’d have swung on round the mountain and 
made the lowland by the route we followed in 
coming up here.” 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 325 


‘‘Then he must have a hiding-place near 
here, ’ ’ quickly summed up Stanley. 

“My idea, exactly! What a lot of places 
he has to hide in. I guess he moves from 
one tenement into another every so often and 
thaFs the reason why he’s so seldom seen. We 
can soon find out by descending to the ledge 
below.” 

Quickly removing their snowshoes they 
seized a low hanging bough and swung them- 
selves otf the ledge and into the clump of trees. 
Stanley was for descending immediately, but 
Bub shinned up the trunk and triumphantly an- 
nounced, “Here’s a piece of three-inch hawser 
tied to this tree. The other end leads along 
two stout branches. I’m going to investigate 
it.” 

After a few moments he joined Stanley and 
informed, “Just as we decided. The hawser is 
coiled up directly over the spot where the trail 
vanished. We ’re getting along finely. ’ ’ 

“I wonder if we are,” muttered Stanley as 
he worked his way down to the foot of the tree. 
“I wonder if we wouldn’t be doing better if we 
made for camp before it gets dark, or else beat 
back to the hovel.” 

“The hovel is out of the question,” said Bub. 


326 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Let’s strike for camp. But first we must look 
about a bit. I say ! what’s this ? ’ ’ 

He straightened from picking something out 
of the snow and held it up in a dying ray of 
sunlight. Stanley stared eagerly over his 
shoulder. It was a small piece of cardboard 
and he had found it at the foot of the tree, where 
it had been buried under the snow until his foot 
had brought it to view. 

“Great Scott!” cried Stanley. “It’s one of 
my cards! See my name on it as plain as the 
nose on your face.” 

“Well I never!” exclaimed Bub. “One of 
your personal cards — and here in the snow! 
When were you up here last ? ’ ’ 

“I never was here,” blankly replied Stanley. 

“But how came your card here?” 

“I don’t know,” replied the bewildered boy. 
“Of course I never plan to carry cards into the 
woods with me. I found the case in my pack 
and put it in my mackinaw. It was a new case 
I had given me Christmas. It’s mighty 
funny. ’ ’ 

“Let’s see the case,” said Bub. 

Stanley felt through the capacious pockets of 
his heavy mackinaw for some moments, and 
then cried, “It’s gone!” 

Bub wrinkled up his nose and wondered over 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 327 


the problem. Finding no clue in his cogita- 
tions he turned and kicked the snow from the 
base of the tree. Kerens the case/’ he briefly 
announced, extending the snow-crusted article 
of leather. 

‘‘Why, it’s absurd! It’s impossible — ” 

“Impossible that you dropped it here, ehF’ 
interrupted Buh. “Now let me tell you what 
happened ; your accident, when everything 
turned black and you lost your senses, and then 
woke to find yourself in the axeman’s shack, 
was nothing more or less than a fall down that 
ledge. You walked off it in the darkness.” 

“Do you think so?” gasped Stanley, looking 
upward in awe. 

“And when you fell you got the bump on the 
head that knocked you out. In falling you 
dropped this case out of your mackinaw pocket. 
If not that, then someone stole it from you and 
lost it up here, which is highly unreasonable. 
You must have struck first among the boughs 
and your snowshoes most likely caught and 
kept you from dropping the full distance, head 
first. That’s what saved your neck from being 
broken.” 

“And the axeman then found me and carried 
jne to his hut,” added Stanley. 

80 /' Bub, ^^And mighty 


328 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


neighborly of him it was.’’ Then triumph- 
antly, ‘^Why, Stan, don’t you see? You fell 
down here and got a crack that knocked you out. 
Along came the axeman and descended by his 
regular method. When he quit the tree he 
found you lying insensible. It all proves our 
theory that he used the tree regularly in de- 
scending this ledge. It’s possible that he was 
trailing you when you got the bump. That 
would account for the fact that you hadn’t suf- 
fered from exposure. He was probably right 
at your heels and picked you up almost as soon 
as you took the drop.” 

“Then his hiding-place must be very near 
here, ’ ’ said Stanley. ‘ ‘ I remember when I quit 
it, although it was too dark to see anything, I 
went down a long slope before striking level 
walking. He must have his hut near the foot 
of the mountain. ’ ’ 

“If it’s near here we ought to find it,” said 
Bub. “We must work fast as it’s getting 
dark.” 

Stanley thought it more prudent to be con- 
tent with what they already had learned and to 
return to camp, postponing further investiga- 
tion until the morrow. But Bub met this with 
the reminder that once back in camp they would 
have hard work to dodge the espionage of the 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 329 


three men, and added, ‘‘Then there’s the pro- 
fessor and his friend. Of course we’ve got to 
stick close once they arrive. It wouldn’t be 
very polite for us to say, ‘Excuse us, please. 
But we’ve got to find a crazy man’s hut out in 
the woods. Good-by. ’ ’ ’ 

“Hardly,” agreed Stanley. “But it seems 
as if we must be a bit unbalanced to try to find 
the hut to-night. It’s so thick now we’ll find 
it hard to make camp. ’ ’ 

“Pooh ! I can fetch you out at the camp with 
never a misstep, ’ ’ declared Bub. ‘ ‘ Let ’s find it 
while the finding is good. ’ ’ 

Persuaded against his better judgment Stan- 
ley gave in and allowed his comrade to lead the 
way along the shelf to where a natural path 
afforded them an easy descent of the slope. 

As they hesitated for a moment, staring down 
into the night-filled forest, the task seemed im- 
possible of accomplishment. Had the axeman 
been at home, with his fire to guide them, it 
might have been a simple matter. But how to 
find the snow-covered bulk of a small hut amid 
the widely stretching evergreens'? 

Bub was moodily considering this problem 
when he thought he heard a strange noise close 
at hand. He couldn’t place it at first, but in- 
dicated to Stanley that something had dis- 


330 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


turbed his line of thought. He cocked his head 
in a pantomimic warning for his friend to lis- 
ten. Stanley became silent and obeyed. For 
a moment only the wind, gently soughing in the 
pine tops, rewarded them. Then they both 
caught it. It was a strange, snuffling note and, 
while faint in volume, seemed to be close at 
hand. 

‘‘What is itU’ whispered Bub, edging closer 
to his friend. 

“Sounds like an animal,’’ murmured Stanley. 
‘ ‘ Sounds almost behind us. ’ ’ 

“But there’s nothing but the ledge behind 
us,” protested Bub in a thin voice. 

Stanley turned to the wall of the ledge and 
leaned his head against it. “Jiminey, Bub! 
But you can hear it plainer by doing this. 
Sure ’s you ’re big as a minute it ’s some creature 
in these rocks.” 

“Then it must be a bear,” whispered Bub. 
“A bear in his winter den.” 

“But the axeman passes here in descending 
and mounting the cliff,” reminded Stanley. 
“Don’t suppose he has a bear caged up to let 
loose on unwelcome visitors, do you?” 

“That’s too crazy for even an insane man,” 
feebly laughed Bub. “The den must be deep 
in the rocks and there must be a small hole 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 331 


through which the sound of his deep breath- 
ing escapes.^’ 

‘^Do bears ever snore T’ asked Stanley. 

‘‘Not that I ever knew of,’’ wondered Bub. 
“Why?” 

“Hanged if it doesn’t sound like a snore.” 

Bub listened again, and then admitted, “It 
does sound something like a snore in spots. 
Must be the result of the noise traveling 
through the small opening. Can you see a hole 
anywhere ? ’ ’ 

“I don’t propose to look,” shivered Stanley, 
beginning to move from the ledge. “I don’t 
fancy this spying on a bear. If he should scent 
us and decide to investigate he might make it 
disagreeable for us. We haven’t anything but 
our pocket-knives and hatchets. ’ ’ 

“But when a bear dens up he doesn’t pull the 
hole in after him,” mumbled Bub, now both 
perplexed and annoyed. “This ledge is 
smooth. There isn’t the ghost of an open- 
ing.” 

“Except where that mass of snow and ice 
makes down.” 

“That’s where some rocks slid down re- 
cently, ’ ’ explained Bub. ‘ ‘ I say, Stan ; it ’s pos- 
sible that the rocks in falling blocked the en- 
trance to the den. If that’s so we can tell the 


332 THE YOUNG LOGGERS 

men and they can come and dig Mister Bear 
out.’’ 

‘‘Poor chap ! He’s in trouble enough, if he’s 
walled in, without being rescued and shot,” said 
Stanley. “I’m going to move on. ’ ’ 

“I’m with you,” hurriedly added Bub. “I 
just heard something like a low growl. What- 
ever ’s in there is waking up.” 

With frequent apprehensive glances back to 
the narrow shelf the boys stumbled down the 
slope. They expected to see some dark mon- 
ster rushing out at any instant. Once or twice 
Stanley mistook clumps of stunted firs for a 
bear, and threw his friend into a panic by in- 
forming him that they were being pursued. 
But beyond a few rough tumbles nothing 
harmed them and at last they were at the edge 
of the mountain. 

It was now dark. Nearby tree trunks showed 
but vaguely. Even Bub acknowledged it would 
be foolhardy to prosecute their search farther 
that time. Their only consolation was in the 
hope they might find an opportunity of stealing 
from camp on the morrow. Failing in this they 
were determined to tell Abner all and get his 
permission to make the trip, accompanied by 
the men if need be. 

True to his promise Bub struck a straight 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 333 


course to the east, skirting the base of the moun- 
tain, and by some subtle woods instinct led his 
friend where the underbrush and trees grew less 
thickly. At times it seemed as though he had 
eyes in his feet, so carefully did he pick his way 
and so surely did he avoid windfalls and tan- 
gled growth. 

was walking along just like this when I 
heard the axeman’s blows,” murmured Stanley. 
“And maybe I wasn’t tickled when I struck the 
logging road and knew I was near the camp.” 

“Make way for the road,” proudly announced 
Bub, stopping and removing his shoes. “ We ’ve 
arrived at civilization, my son. The camp is 
somewhere below us.” 

Kicking off his shoes Stanley eagerly pressed 
forward and was the first to discover the cheer- 
ful glow of the camps. “I’ll race you for it,” 
he challenged, darting away heedless of the 
darkness. 

Not to be defied Bub gave chase and clung at 
his heels tenaciously until near the cook’s camp. 

“We’ll call on Cub first and get a bite to eat,” 
yelled Stanley, rushing into the dingle. 

“Man in first wins the race,” panted Bub, 
seizing his friend by the collar and yanking 
him back and leaping ahead of him into the 
camp. 


334 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Then with a low cry of astonishment he halted 
and stared at a strange tableau. The men, with 
the exception of Hogan, stood massed behind 
the table, each armed with an axe or a gun, while 
Cub stood at bay with the butcher knife. Their 
eyes were riveted on the door and their faces 
were drawn with fear. 

‘ ‘ The kids ! ^ ’ gasped Pudgy Williams. 

‘‘Sapre! Eet geeve you wan beeg chase 
choked the Frenchman. 

‘‘We heard you running and thought it was 
something after Hogan,’’ bleated Cub. 

“And a fine gang of brave men,” indignantly 
cried Bub. “If you thought any rot like that 
why didn’t you go out and stand ready to lend 
a handP’ 

“You look as if someone had been scaring 
you with ghost stories,” grinned Stanley. “Or 
were you holding that knife, Mr. Blaine, in 
readiness to carve us a few slices of Mr. Whit- 
ten’s choice ham!” 

“You don’t understand,” whimpered Cub, 
turning away. “If you knew all you wouldn’t 
have the heart to eat any of poor Abner’s ham.” 

“Poor Abner! What do you mean!” asked 
Bub in a horrified whisper. 

‘ ‘ Good heavens ! What ’s happened since we 
left!” Stanley managed to add. 


SECRET OF THE LOST TRAIL 335 


“Abner and Foster and Charlie left here the 
day you started for the Squawtooth, promising 
to be back sure for supper/’ wearily replied 
Cub. ‘ ‘ And that ’s the last we Ve seen of them. ’ ’ 

“Hey be gone wan, two, free day,” groaned 
the Frenchman. “I rather mak’ ma skiddoo to 
Squawtoof den lose ten dollar.” 

“You mean none of the three men has 
shown up since we went away?” asked Stanley 
incredulously. 

“Nary hide nor hair of ’em have we seen,” 
solemnly assured Pudgy Williams. “And they 
promised most particular to be back for sup- 
per. Told Hogan so. He’s been mighty well 
torn out about it and has been ranging the 
woods to find ’em.” 

“They acted as if they’d been waiting for you 
two to get clear of the camp. The minute you 
were out of sight they hustled into their togs 
and started off. Hogan’s away now trying to 
find some trace of them. He spends the whole 
day in the woods. The men have quit work and 
swear they’re going back to the Squawtooth 
to-morrow. ’ ’ 

“Oui! I ban mak’ wan beeg streek lak’a 
lightning for dat Squawtoot’,” emphatically as- 
sured Pierre. 

“You’ll make one big stick right here,” 


336 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


growled Bub. ‘‘The gray axeman is camping 
along the road that leads south, and if you poke 
your cowardly nose outside of the camp prem- 
ises hedl get you for sure. Hogan ^s the only 
man with any nerve, excepting Cub. ’ ’ 

“IVe been out once with Hogan,” sadly said 
Cub. “But someone has to cook, so Vve stuck 
here most of the time.” 

“We know you, old man,” said Stanley 
quietly. “But these other chaps seem to have 
an awful streak of yellow. What if the men 
didnT return? Haven’t they a right to keep 
on going if they find it’s necessary?” 

“But that tree-chopping feller ye call the 
axeman,” protested Williams. “I ain’t got no 
yaller streak, but when he gits away with three 
men like — ” 

“Eot!” angrily broke in Bub. “I tell you 
the axeman isn’t within fifteen or twenty miles 
of here. He ’s down the line. We saw him near 
the Squawtooth. He isn’t a ghost, or a ha’nt. 
He’s simply some poor fellow who’s lost his 
reason and wanders about the woods.” 

With a yelp of fear the Frenchman jumped 
back, eyeing the door. It opened and in stepped 
Hogan, his usually cheery face overclouded and 
bitter. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


THE BESCUE 

‘H’m mighty glad to see you, my dears, sa- 
luted Hogan, giving each of the boys a hearty 
hand-shake. ‘H^m glad to have someone in 
camp besides Cub that’s got some sand. These 
insects haven’t done a dollar’s worth of work 
since you and the men quit here. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ The men are old enough to look after them- 
selves,” replied Bub. ‘‘We’ve just told the 
men that the axeman is far below here, ranging 
between the Squawtooth and Briar Stream. 
We saw him several times.” 

“If you chaps will clear out while you’re talk- 
ing it over I’ll get some supper,” announced 
Cub. 

“That’s right, honey; we’ve got to eat even if 
we never save a penny,” cried Hogan. “And 
hard is the day I’ve put in in tramping the 
woods. But you two come with me down to the 
scaler’s camp where we can be alone. The men 
will stick mighty close to the bunk-house. I’ll 
guarantee. ’ ’ 


337 


338 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Hogan made no attempt at conversation as 
they walked down to the small camp intended 
for the scaler ’s use. But once they were inside 
and he had lighted the birch hark and kindlings 
in the stove he returned to the subject of the 
three men^s absence, and said, ‘H^m af earing 
something has happened to them.’’ 

^‘Nonsense, Hogan! I won’t have it so. I 
don’t take it as being kindly or wise on your 
part to even hint at such a thing,” cried Stan- 
ley, his cheeks paling. 

Which is all very good to talk to the men, 
honey,” groaned Hogan. ‘‘But here’s some- 
thing I found over back the mountain in the 
snow. How did it get there, and what are the 
men doing for grub?” As he asked this ques- 
tion he fished a large pack from under a bunk 
and pushed it towards them. 

With sinking hearts they observed it was the 
pack usually carried by the old trapper. Open- 
ing the flaps they beheld the provisions undis- 
turbed. So far as they could see nothing had 
been touched. 

‘ ‘ They might have left this hanging to a limb, 
being in a hurry, and have decided to take along 
the other two packs,” suggested Bub, moisten- 
ing his dry lips and speaking with great diffi- 


THE RESCUE 339 

culty as he feared he was gazing on the mute 
evidence of a tragedy. 

‘^They had this one pack, no others,’’ sadly 
replied Hogan. ‘‘They didn’t intend to take 
any, being so sure of returning by night, but 
Abner insisted. Noisy Charlie toted it. Now 
what do you make of that^ Three days and 
nights gone and no food.” 

“You found it just where!” dully inquired 
Stanley, slumping onto a stool. 

“Back of the mountain on a shelf of rock. It 
wasn’t hanging to a bough, as Bub suggested, 
but was thrown down in the snow. ’ ’ 

The boys exchanged startled glances. A shelf 
back of the mountain would coincide with the 
place where they heard the queer snuffling 
sound. Stanley begged Hogan to describe more 
minutely the exact spot. He did so and as he 
finished the boys were convinced it was the 
very spot they had found after descending the 
tree. 

“There’s nothing to do but beat back 
there, ’ ’ said Stanley firmly. 

“We’ll start at once,” sighed Bub, tenderly 
rubbing his aching legs. 

“Not a step do you stir till you’ve had a hot 
bite and have told me what you’re thinking of 


340 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


doing,’’ sternly announced Hogan. ‘‘You’ll 
have about time to explain before the horn 
sounds. Spit it out.” 

The boys rapidly related their experience on 
the shelf of rock, and displayed the card they 
had found in the snow at the foot of the tree. 
“And the queer snuffling noise we took to be a 
bear,” concluded Bub. 

“Wait a minute till I tell you something 
else,” said Stanley, as the Irishman made to 
speak. And he added his adventures when he 
was the axeman’s guest for a night. 

“I begin to understand better now,” cried 
Hogan. “The men were anxious for you kids 
to leave and give them a clear field. Just as 
soon as you were well down the road they 
jumped into their tramping togs, filled this pack 
and were off. They had it all planned, for 
never a second did they waste in talking things 
over. They simply watched till you were out 
of sight and then they was off and away.” 

“They went back to learn something about 
the broken trail,” said Bub. “They didn’t 
want us to go with them. That’s why they 
cooked up the tote-road trip to the Squawtooth. 
Stanley and I propose to go back there to-night 
and see what kind of a bear is in that ledge. ’ ’ 

“For the love of heaven!” gasped Hogan. 


THE EESCUE 341 

^‘You don’t mean that you think it may be the 
men?” 

hardly dare think anything,” sorrowfully 
answered Bub. ‘‘But I should always blame 
myself if I lost a second in getting there and 
investigating.” 

“You can’t make it. You’re dead beat out, 
as I can tell by the looks of you,” cried Hogan. 
“Go to your bunks and I’ll make the trip.” 

“Hardly,” growled Stanley. “Of course 
you are not tired, after beating the woods all 
day. Oh, no! And this is a case where we 
don’t dare wait till morning. We ought to be 
on the way now.” 

“I’ll go with you,” said Hogan. “What 
shall we take?” 

“A pack of supplies, a big can of cotfee, which 
we can heat after we get there, a crow-bar and 
a gun. The last is for the bear — if it is a 
bear,” quickly replied Bub. 

Cub blew the supper horn at this moment 
and without further loss of time the three has- 
tened to the camp and confided to Cub their 
errand. At first he insisted on going with 
them, but they reminded him he could do more 
good sticking by his range and being ready to 
have a hot supper ready for them. They 
hardly dared to express any hope of finding 


342 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


the men, but from their manner he deduced they 
were trying to expect the best. 

‘H’m going on the theory that you’ll bring 
the men back,” he choked. ‘‘And I’m going 
to have a bang-up supper ready. It’ll be a 
regular banquet. If the six of you don’t re- 
turn to eat I’ll never cook another meal of 
victuals in this miserable camp.” 

They ate hurriedly and Hogan took only a 
few minutes in warning the men what would 
happen to them if they attempted to desert the 
camp. Then picking up a rifle he slung on the 
pack and led the way into the night. As they 
were passing the horse-hovel Bub darted in and 
procured a lantern. By the aid of this they 
made rapid progress, quickly finding their trail 
into camp and following it. Now that they were 
keyed up by fear and excitement neither of the 
boys had a thought for their weary legs, and 
pressed Hogan hard to keep up with them. It 
was nearly midnight when they reached the 
point where they should turn and breast the 
mountain. 

Suddenly Bub announced, “I smell smoke. 
Can it be we’ve found their camping place?” 

“I see no fire,” answered Hogan. “But the 
smoke is there sure’s you’re born.” 

Stanley also now caught the acrid reek of 


THE EESCUE 


343 


burning wood and they pressed on excitedly. 
They could discover no fire, however, although 
the smoke grew stronger as they ascended the 
slope. 

‘‘Here we are and wefil soon know what’s 
behind that ledge,” said Bub in a low voice, 
hanging the lantern to a bough. 

Hogan examined the place critically and re- 
marked, “There’s no opening as I can see. 
Queer for a bear to den up and then be caught 
in a landslide.” 

“It really isn’t a landslide,” corrected Stan- 
ley. “Simply a few boulders have been dis- 
placed. Probably done by the last rain. They 
dropped down into the opening.” 

“But a bear doesn’t take a rope to bed with 
him,” exclaimed Hogan, who was now on his 
knees and cautiously pawing in the debris. 
Bub snatched the lantern and kneeled beside 
him. Protruding from the litter of rocks and 
dirt was the end of a hawser, much like the 
piece that was used in the tree. 

“Gracious!” ejaculated Stanley, who had 
been pressing his ear against the wall. “I hear 
a noise and it isn’t a bear. It sounds like a 
human voice.” 

“Woooo!” howled the Irishman, seizing the 
short iron bar and assailing the rocks fiercely. 


344 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘‘The good Lord only knows how anyone got in 
there, but we’ll soon fetch them out.” 

“But not by working in that fashion,” re- 
strained Bub. “Get up above and find a place 
where you can insert the bar between the bould- 
ers and the ledge. Then see if you can force it 
outward. ’ ’ 

“It sounds like Abner’s voice!” half sobbed 
Stanley. 

Bub took a position beside his comrade and 
pressing his lips to a small aperture bawled 
lustily. It seemed as if the booming note in- 
side was an answer. He tried again and for the 
second time it answered him. He was not posi- 
tive it was a man’s voice. Then came a shril- 
ler note and he thought he caught the words 
“higher” and “chimney.” 

“That gets me,” he mused, pausing to study 
the significance of the muffled reply. “Some- 
one says ‘higher’ and ‘chimney.’ ” 

“They mean for us to climb higher and find 
the vent where the smoke comes out,” cried 
Stanley. “That’s the smoke we’ve been smel- 
ling. It must be right above here. ’ ’ 

In the next instant they were scrambling up 
the face of the ledge till they found themselves 
fairly over a crack in the rocks, through which 
was issuing smoke. Eegardless of smarting 


THE RESCUE 345 

eyes Bub held his face close to this and yelled, 
Abner, are you in there T’ 

ye love me, Robert Thomas, pour down 
some soup, or a pie,’^ moaned a faint voice. 

^‘Hurrah! Hurrah wildly screamed Bub. 
‘ Ht ^s Abner and he ’s hungry ! ’ ’ 

Stanley pushed him aside and called down, 
‘‘Are Foster and Charlie there 
There was a silence of a few seconds and 
then Abner’s weary voice feebly answered, 
“They be, but if we don’t git some grub in five 
minutes we’re going to eat Foster.” 

Laughing hysterically from his great joy 
Stanley descended to where Hogan was work- 
ing like a madman on the boulders. He had 
made no impression whatever. 

“You can never do it that way,” said Stan- 
ley, holding the lantern close to the rocks. 
“You’re wasting your strength in jabbing 
against the face of the boulders. Get up on 
top and find a crevice and see if you can’t force 
them out of place, one at a time.” 

Bub now joined them and suggested a fire 
to supplement the inadequate light of the lan- 
tern. This was built at one side of the slide 
and the boys proceeded to scrape off the loose 
stones and frozen dirt. By doing this they at 
last discovered that one large triangular piece 


346 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


of rock blocked the opening. It seemed to be 
held in place by a mass of smaller stones and 
a glance satisfied them they would be unable 
to move it by ordinary means. 

Hogan examined the obstacle carefully and 
then informed, ‘^Unless the thing rolls outward 
from the passage, when the small stones wedg- 
ing it in place have been removed, weVe got 
to return to camp and get more help and some 
blasting powder. It^s funny how it ever man- 
aged to fall just right to fill the opening. ’ ^ 

‘‘And it’s peculiar what this big piece of haw- 
ser has to do with it,” commented Stanley. 
“Hark! sounds if they’re calling us.” 

Bub scampered up over the ledge to the vent 
and loudly asked what was wanted. It was 
Abner’s voice that replied, “Has that tarnal 
Frenchman ate up all my ham?” 

Greatly relieved at the nature of the query 
Bub’s heart beat jubilantly with joy as he 
warned, “The ham is all right, but you mustn’t 
call us from our work. Don’t call us again un- 
less something is wrong.” 

‘ ‘ What good would that do ? ” querulously re- 
torted Abner. “Everything’s wrong in here. 
It’s black as a pocket and we’ve used up all 
our matches. We’ve got just two pieces of 
wood left and I’d rather eat ’em then burn ’em.” 


THE RESCUE 


347 


^‘CanT you find something to use as picks and 
work the stones away from under the big one 
in the passage/’ anxiously suggested Bub. 

‘‘No good,” sighed Abner. “We tried that 
and let down a shower of rocks that nearly 
buried us.” 

“Is there any danger of your suffocating — 
choking?” asked Bub. 

“WeVe stood it for about a month and man- 
age to keep a fire. burning,” dryly replied Ab- 
ner. 

Then another voice called up. It was Fost- 
er’s, and he joyously greeted, “I’m mighty glad 
to know ye lads are there. Take ye time. By 
the way, what time is it? All our watches have 
stopped.” 

Bub told him and he seemed much surprised to 
learn it was night outside. He urged the boys 
to return to camp and sleep and return in the 
morning, but the lad stoutly insisted he and his 
friends would never quit the place till they had 
forced the opening. The old trapper then 
asked the day of the week and was again as- 
tounded to learn they had not been imprisoned 
for a much longer period. 

“Why doesn’t Charlie say something?” anxi- 
ously asked Bub. “Anything happened to 
him?’ 


348 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


In a few seconds the Indian’s grave voice 
called up, ‘‘Young Fox very wise to find hole 
where Old Fox is buried. Young Fox better go 
now and help um dig away rocks.” 

Bub returned to join his comrades and found 
they had managed to dislodge several of the 
small rocks at the side of the big boulder. 
Hogan explained that they would leave the 
rocks at the bottom until they had cleared the 
sides and top. Then it might be possible to 
work the boulder outward, when it would fall 
clear of the opening without further urging. It 
was tedious work as their only light was the lan- 
tern and the flames of the fire. The ledge was 
impenetrable when attacked on its flat surfaces 
and only responded to the iron bar when a line 
of cleavage was found. Then by much labor 
a layer could be worked loose. Hogan at last 
decided that the longest method was the quick- 
est and, beginning well above the top of the 
opening, patiently removed layer after layer in 
an effort to work down to the boulder. 

, Discerning his hopes Bub and Stanley impro- 
vised levers of stout spruce poles and ener- 
getically sought to aid him. Sometimes the iron 
would slip, or the poles break. After ten min- 
utes of frantic efforts each of the three was 
nursing bleeding knuckles. 


THE EESCUE 


349 


‘‘I believe we’re going to make it,” panted 
Hogan. ‘‘At least we’ll get into the top of the 
passage. If we can’t budge the rock we’ll make 
a hole over the top of it.” 

“We’ve struck hard-pan,” cried Bub. 

“It’s the top of the boulder,” said Stanley. 
“Now to work in back of it.” 

“For the love of heaven stand clear!” 
howled Hogan, scrambling aside and dragging 
the boys after him. He had scarcely sounded 
this warning before the boulder began to move, 
grating and groaning as the law of gravitation 
caused it to sag outward and downward. In 
loosening the ledge from above the rescuers 
unwittingly had solved the problem. 

Then with a crash and a clatter the big rock 
slid from its position and, accompanied by a 
mass of small stones, rolled out onto the shelf. 

With a loud shout of triumph Bub caught up 
the lantern and dashed into the opening. Al- 
most instantly he collided with a barrier of rocks 
and broken ledge. But the sound of the men’s 
voices could now be heard quite plainly. 

After a brief survey of the debris filling the 
opening Hogan encouraged, “Only a brief bit 
more, my darlings. This is loose stuff and can 
be pawed out of the way in two shakes of a 
cat’s tail.” 


350 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Don’t throw any cats away,” cried Abner’s 
high voice. want ’em to eat.” 

But it puzzled the boys to encounter the splin- 
tered pieces of what once was a stout spruce 
log. Several feet of the three-inch hawser was 
fastened to this. Beneath the rubble was more 
of the rope, one end of which the rescuers al- 
ready had noticed from the exterior of the open- 
ing. 

‘‘Looks like some kind of a trap,” commented 
Bub, who was holding the lantern while his com- 
panions worked with all their strength to break 
through into the cave. 

“Truly spoken, honey,” puffed Hogan. 
“And it wasn’t a bear trap, either.” 

“We can see yer light!” cried Abner from 
within the darkness. “Hooray for the light!” 

“Make um eye ache,” grunted Charlie’s 
voice. 

‘ ‘ S ’pose we lend a hand and help push some 
of this litter aside,” suggested Foster. 

The three men, now convinced it was safe for 
them to assail the barrier from their side, made 
quick work of the remainder ; and then the boys 
tumbled inward and found themselves embraced 
and shaken in turn by the delighted prison- 
ers. 

‘ ‘ Hold up that dinged light so ’s I can see how 


THE EESCUE 351 

much Bub has aged since I saw him last/’ cried 
Abner. 

thought sure we was cooped up for good,” 
groaned Foster, now relaxing as he realized the 
long suspense was over. 

‘‘Make-um tracks from here,” eagerly urged 
the Indian. ^‘Bad spirit come back and throw 
top of mountain on us.” 

don’t budge a step till I have some fod- 
der,” declared Abner. ^Hf ye ain’t got any 
grub ye can shed yer moccasins. I could eat 
one raw.’’ 

Stanley did not hear these remarks as he was 
engaged in studying the cave. A couch of 
boughs in one corner was the same on which he 
had spent a portion of a night in the axeman’s 
company. To one side of the rude fireplace 
hung the violin. The bare walls were now re- 
vealed in all their nakedness as the three men 
in attempting to cut their way out of the place 
had tom the bags down. Some had been burned 
to furnish light when the wood supply ran low. 

All began talking at once, asking questions, 
and then asking more without waiting for any- 
one to essay an answer. In the midst of this 
babel of queries Stanley projected his strong 
voice, announcing, Before we say another 
word lets have something to eat. We’ve 


352 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


brought a dandy lunch and plenty of coffee. 
Ill rustle for wood while Bub makes coffee. 
After we Ve had a feed we can talk.’’ 

At the mention of food Abner snatched up 
the pack and began tearing it open. know 
that onery Cub didn’t put in more’n a taste 
apiece,” he groaned. can tell by the feel 
of this package that it’s shoes, or some such 
truck.” Then with a gasp of relief he began 
setting various articles of food to one side, 
gloating over each in a mumbling undertone. 

‘‘Make-um camp and eat-um food there,” ear- 
nestly advised the Indian, who was uneasy at re- 
maining in the cave. 

‘Ht’ll take several strong men to tear me 
away from this,” defied Abner, trying to en- 
circle the meats and pastry with his long arms. 

^‘No one will come to disturb us, Charlie,” 
promised Stanley. ‘ ‘ The gray axeman is down 
on the Squawtooth, or over on Briar Stream. 
We’ll take our time in eating.” 

“And if he should come back we’ll make him 
a prisoner,” added Bub. 

“Glory be, but I wish the spalpeen would 
show up,” angrily cried Hogan. “It’s enough 
of trouble he’s been after making already. 
We’ll wait a bit for him, my dears.” 


THE EESCUE 


353 


As the fire burned higher and the boys had 
an opportunity to study the men closely they 
could detect signs of suffering in each face. 
Noisy Charlie showed the least evidences of 
physical inconvenience, but his eyes were wild 
in their expression. The old trapper volun- 
teered the information that they had suffered 
but little because of the cold. When they slept, 
he said, they had allowed the fire to die down to 
coals. This explained why the boys had not 
smelt smoke on their first reconnaisance of the 
ledge. It also accounted for the strange snuf- 
fling sound, which Foster said was Abner snor- 
ing. Fortunately they had discovered some 
provisions in the place, including a portion of 
a ham. A half barrel filled with water had 
saved them thirst. 

‘Ht wasn’t for wood, or water or grub that 
we suffered,” continued Foster. ‘^Although 
I’ll admit we reached the end of the grub and 
was beginning to tighten our belts. But it was 
the derned darkness. Couldn’t see anything 
but them bags hanging on the walls. After we 
tore them down we could see only the naked 
rocks. When we slept the fire nearly died out. 
When we woke up it was dark. It seems as if 
we’d spent years in this danged hole. Then 


354 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


there was the thought that we was buried alive, 
that no one would ever know what become of us. 
It got on our nerves. I guess Charlie was most 
concerned with fearing that his bad spirit 
might return to take another fall out of us. But 
Abner and me would have welcomed anything, 
be he ha’nt or human, if it meant a chance to 
git loose. 

‘‘You tried to dig outT’ asked Stanley sym- 
pathetically, as he poured a tin dipper of coffee 
and passed it to Abner. 

For an answer Foster and Noisy Charlie pro- 
duced the shattered remains of their knives, 
showing where they had broken the stout blades 
in trying to cut into the walls of the cave. 
Then pointing to the crevice which served as a 
chimney Charlie informed them : 

“Old Fox break-um knife digging up there. 

“If anyone donT care for their share of the 
doughnuts don’t throw ’em away,” interrupted 
Abner wolfishly. 

“You can have all of mine,” smiled Stanley, 
not yet able to make it seem real. 

‘ ‘ Sure there must be some bit of a word you 
men want to say in explaining how this all 
happened,” reminded Hogan. 

“Let’s wait till we get to camp and have set 


THE RESCUE 355 

down to the supper Cub is preparing for us/’ 
suggested Bub. 

‘^Supper? One of Cubbie’s hot suppers?” 
cried Abner, rising. Let’s waste no more 
time here. Forward march!” 


CHAPTEE XIX 


PLANNING TO CATCH THE AXEMAN 

Now that the suspense was ended Hogan and 
the boys suddenly realized they were deathly 
tired. It did not seem to Stanley or Bub that 
they could drag one foot after the other long 
enough to reach the camp. The rescued men, 
while cramped and lame from inaction and 
their close quarters, experienced only deep re- 
lief when they found themselves once more in 
the keen, bracing open air. To the Indian espe- 
cially was the release most welcome. Eepeat- 
edly he filled his deep lungs and grunted from 
the sheer pleasure of living. Before they had 
covered two miles he detected signs of weak- 
ness in the youngsters. Without a word he 
glided beside Stanley and although hampered 
by his snowshoes managed to lend a helping 
arm. 

After a brief bit of this assistance he passed 
to Bub. When they struck the logging road and 
removed their shoes he stepped between the 
two boys and threw an arm round each. By 

356 


THE AXEMAN 


357 


the time they sighted the light shining from the 
cook’s camp he felt the boys’ bodies crumpling 
up like so many bags of meal. With a low 
murmur of pity he lifted them from the ground 
and staggered to the camp. 

Cub heard them approaching and fearfully 
threw open the door. When he beheld the In- 
dian he shouted with joy; but as his gaze rested 
on the inert forms of his friends his heart con- 
tracted. ‘‘Fat boy no make squaw-talk,” di- 
rected Charlie. “Boys gettum tired and take 
sleep young papoose.” 

“Where’s that supper?” warmly demanded 
Abner, bursting into the room. “Don’t say ye 
forgot it! Don’t git me peevish — I vum!” 
He broke off to indulge in the exclamation when 
his eyes rested on the long table. Cub had 
made elaborate plans for their coming and had 
found a refuge from his worries by making 
himself believe his friends must return. In 
addition to the usual tableware he had cun- 
ningly arranged decorations from fancy paper 
found in several boxes of supplies. As for 
viands he had exhausted his variety of provi- 
sions in making up the menu. 

The staple articles of stewed beef, baked 
beans and the like held their usual positions on 
the board, but in the matter of pies he had 


358 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


taken wide flight. From canned vegetables he 
had baked luscious rhubarb, squash, pumpkin 
and apple pies. From some private jars of Abr 
ner^s he had baked enormous mince pies. And , 
as a pastry cook he had made two cakes, won- 
derfully inviting to behold. 

‘‘Lean those two younkers against the table 
and fall to,’^ commanded Abner, entirely un- 
mindful of the fact he had eaten heartily but a 
few hours since. 

Stanley and Bub found their weariness sub- 
siding as the warmth of the camp began to have 
its effect, but they did not believe it possible 
to keep their eyes open till Abner and the oth- 
ers satisfled their appetites. However, when 
Hogan leaned back and requested, “CanT we 
know all about it now!’’ they found their at- 
tention alert again. 

Abner, with a crestfallen expression, fumbled 
with his beard and slowly confessed, “We was 
a parcel of fools. We went to where Foster and 
Charlie lost the trail and by a little peeking 
about in the trees what grow up from the plat- 
form of rocks below, found the rope, which some 
critter — ’’ 

“Bad spirit,’’ cried Charlie. 

“No, Injun, not a speeret, but the axeman,” 
corrected Foster. 


THE AXEMAN 


359 


^‘What some critter/’ continued Abner, 
‘‘used in gitting up into the trees. We found 
where he shinned down the trees to the plat- 
form, and then we come face to face with a low 
opening. I suggested bears but Foster said he 
could smell wood burning and twitted us with 
being backward about going forward. When he 
bolted in, me and Charlie chased along at his 
heels. Just as we got well inside the opening 
we struck a curtain of burlap. Then we knew 
some one besides wild varmints lived there. 
We brushed it aside and saw the red coals in 
the fireplace and as I was crowding Foster he 
stepped ahead real pert-like, me on his heels. 
Guess he can tell the next better then I.” 

“ Abner ’n Charlie acted as they was afraid 
something might catch them less they kept close 
to me, and I had to give ground considerable 
fast,” drawled Foster. “First thing I know 
I struck a rope, what was stretched tight a little 
below my belt line, and fell over it. Then Ab- 
ner and Charlie tripped on me and followed my 
example. When our three bodies fetched down 
on that rope there was a groaning and a grind- 
ing and the sound of something heavy falling, 
of wood splintering, and the next thing we knew 
we was shut oft from outdoors.” 

“Then the rope >as a trap,” cried Hogan, 


360 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘Ht was fastened to the timber that kept the 
rocks in place. They must have been balanced 
that soft-like that when the rope was struck 
hard and jerked away the spruce timber it let 
the load of rocks, including the big feller, down 
into the opening.’’ 

‘‘Figger it to suit yerself,” growled Abner. 
‘‘All I know we was bottled up. We tried to 
dig our way out, hut so many small stones come 
clattering down I was afraid to keep on. I 
tried to dig a hole up through the rocks where 
the smoke fed out, but had to give it up. And 
there we stuck for more’n a month, eating every- 
thing in the place, drinking all the water and 
burning all the wood. It was toss up a cent 
whether we’d starve to death, freeze to death or 
die of thirst when we heard yer welcome tap- 
ping on the ledge.” 

“Three veteran woodsmen being caught in 
a clumsy trap like that,” groaned Stanley, 
glancing appealingly at Bub. 

“I know what you’re thinking,” sighed Bub. 
“You’re pitying me for being related to one of 
them. Oh, Stan, why did we ever leave them to 
wander away from camp and get into trouble?” 

“I’ll have ye know, Robert Thomas, that af- 
ter passing through the experience we did, in 
that danged rock-hole it ain’t time to poke fun,” 


THE AXEMAN 


361 


hotly observed Abner. ‘‘Wait till either of ye 
have been in a cave, what’s the home of a mad- 
man, and then see how loud ye’ll twitter.” 

“Beg pardon, Abner,” yawned Stanley. 
“But I spent a night in that cave recently. 
What is more, the gray axeman was there all 
the time.” 

The men gaped at him in silence for a few mo- 
ments; then Abner sorrowfully said, “I’m 
sorry, my boy, ye feel like making a joke out 
of it. We’ve much obleeged for ye coming to 
dig us out. Being young and thoughtless I 
s’pose ye don’t realize the danger we was in.” 

Seeing he had hurt the old man’s feelings 
Stanley gravely repeated his statement and 
proceeded to give the details. As he progressed 
the men’s faces were a study in surprise and 
awe. When he described the violin music, how 
he played the instrument to quiet the axeman, 
how the axeman twirled the axe and declared 
his enmity to all loggers, Abner was compelled 
to wipe the nervous sweat from his tanned fore- 
head. After Stanley had concluded and Bub 
briefly recited their adventures down the Squaw- 
tooth and had his friend produce the note-book, 
the old trapper slapped his knee silently, while 
the Indian, his eyes rolling hopelessly, mut- 
tered : 


362 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Boys very big medicine. Make Injun feel 
like squaw.’’ 

Before the volley of questions could be asked, 
Hogan, at Stanley’s request, told of his efforts 
to find the lost men and also told of how the crew 
was in a state of extreme panic. “If we hadn’t 
brought you back nary a tap would they have 
done to-morrer,” he added in finishing. 

Bub now took the floor and stated, “ It ’s time 
this nonsense was ended. These logs must be 
hauled to the landing. The extra teams will be 
up soon.” This reminded him of Professor 
Carlton and he broke off his main argument 
long enough to impart the news of the profes- 
sor’s intended visit. Continuing, he said, 
“The gray axeman has raised Ned with our 
plans long enough. I’m ashamed we haven’t 
rounded him up before now.” 

“He’ll be a dangerous gentleman to yard,” 
observed Hogan, — ^“him with his glittering 
axe.” 

“He’s the feller what hung up them widder- 
makers,” moodily reminded Foster. 

“Suppose we remember he’s the chap who 
took me in and doctored my head,” quietly 
added Stanley. ‘ ‘ He kept me warm and dressed 
my hurt and showed that music has a power- 
ful influence over him. He never offered to 


THE AXEMAN 


363 


harm me when he was waving the axe. He was 
simply telling that the loggers mnst be stopped 
from killing otf the forests.’’ 

‘‘And he’s educated and knows forestry notes 
when he sees them,’’ broke in Bub. “I’d give 
a dollar to see Spar’s face when he reads the 
axeman’s comments on his notes.” 

“All of which should prompt us to lose no 
time in capturing him and getting him back 
to civilization, where he can be identified and 
cared for,” insisted Stanley. “It would be a 
crime to leave him up here in this desolate 
region, to depend on stolen supplies and rab- 
bits for food.” 

Noisy Charlie twisted uneasily and asked, 
“What um boys say we must do? Injun no 
like-um spirit, but would help man who goes 
wrong up here.” And he tapped his forehead. 

“That’s the way to talk, Charlie,” endorsed 
Bub. “We must lay a trap for him and catch 
him unawares.” 

“Which will be some trouble, according to yer 
tell,” gloomily said Abner. “He has several 
places where he hangs out. It’ll be pretty hard 
to come upon him without his seeing us first.” 

“Well, it’s got to be done,” doggedly replied 
Bub. “This camp must be freed of all this 
ghost business before another year. The axe- 


364 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


man is simply a man whose brain is unbalanced 
on the subject of preserving the forests.’^ 

Cub, who had been keenly attentive to all this, 
now asked, ‘^Have any of you any plan for 
capturing this man ? ’ ’ 

The men exchanged puzzled glances, and 
Stanley spoke for all when he retorted, ‘^The 
only way I can think of is to find the place 
where he is living and when he’s away go in- 
side and wait till he comes back. Then we 
must fling ourselves upon him and use suffi- 
cient force to make him a prisoner.” 

‘‘If I didn’t know any more about cooking 
than you fellows seem to know about capturing 
a poor crazy man I guess I wouldn’t hold a 
job very long,” sarcastically declared Cub. 

“Well, smarty, what plan do you propose?” 
tartly asked Bub. 

“If you use force someone is going to be 
sadly hurt,” returned Cub. Noisy Charlie 
nodded an emphatic affirmative to this. 

“Being out of his mind he would fight like a 
demon and he would use every ounce of strength 
he possesses,” continued Cub. “He would 
keep several of you fellows in the air at once. 
And if he should happen to take a notion to use 
his axe — Please excuse me from being a mem- 
ber of the party.” 


THE AXEMAN 


365 


‘‘That settles it!’’ cried Abner, making the 
dishes dance as his fist smote the table. “I’m 
willing to take a chance and be real neighborly 
if it’s needed to save the poor critter’s life. 
But neither of ye boys can dip into it. I’ll go 
back to the Squawtooth and telephone for a 
posse and leave it to paid help to fetch him into 
camp. ’ ’ 

“Simply shifting a disagreeable responsibil- 
ity on someone else ’s shoulders, ’ ’ reflected Cub, 
smiling as if deeply amused. 

“Younker, ye’re a good cook, but even good 
cooks can be too peppery to suit me,” warned 
Abner, with an attempt at sternness in his 
voice. 

“Old Fox wait,” quietly said the Indian, 
studying Cub’s smiling features earnestly. 
“Fat boy make big medicine one, two, three 
time. Him ready make-um now. Him got 
some way to catch axeman.” 

“Mr. Blaine, please explain,” impatiently de- 
manded Stanley. 

“Why, there’s only one way,” said Cub. 
“I’m amazed none of you thought of it. We’ll 
catch him with the fiddle the tote team is bring- 
ing up. ’ ’ 

“Catch him with a fiddle! Spreading hem- 
lock!” gasped the Irishman. “Be you sure, 


366 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


honey, yon don’t mean we’d better sprinkle salt 
on his tail?” 

‘‘A fiddle!” muttered Abner, staring blankly 
at Cub. 

‘Hf ye’ve finished yer joke we men and seri- 
ous-minded boys would like to be left alone 
while we finish our plans,” coldly spoke up the 
old trapper. 

^‘Suit yourselves,” lightly replied Cub, turn- 
ing away to the stove. ‘ ‘ Seeing my advice isn’t 
wanted I guess I’ll turn in. It’s nearly morn- 
ing and I want to snatch a bit of sleep before 
getting the men’s breakfast.” 

‘‘Hold fast,” cried Stanley. “Cub’s got the 
right of it. He’s thought out the big medicine. 
It’s the only way and I’m ashamed none of us 
thought of it.” 

“Give us the details,” grinned Bub. “I surr 
render. The fiddle is the only bait. You’d 
quiet him with a bit of music and capture him 
without any fuss, eh?” 

‘ ‘ Why, of course, ’ ’ assented Cub. ‘ ‘ Find out 
where he is stopping for a night. Walk out to 
his place, with Stanley or me playing his favor- 
ite selection, ‘Hearts and Flowers,’ eh? Well, 
one of us will play that. And I haven’t any 
doubt but what we can walk right up to him, 
take his axe away and lead him back to camp. 


THE AXEMAN 


367 


Of course if he gets to raving after we Ve made 
him a prisoner we can tie his hands and feet 
so he canT harm us or himself, then wedl take 
him down the line on a sled where he can be 
treated for his trouble.’^ 

‘HHs a great lad you be, honey!” enthusi- 
astically cried Hogan. ‘^Sure, it^s a cook that 
has the headpiece on him.” 

‘^Fat boy make big medicine. Make straight 
talk like-um what Injun wait to hear. Me go 
now anytime and catch-um axeman,” softly ad- 
mired Charlie. 

‘^Of course wedl have to wait for the violin 
to arrive,” reminded Cub. 

^‘Younker, it ainT usual for gray hairs to 
apologize to a snip of a cook,” growled Abner. 
‘^But as the case stands I admit ye’re dead 
right and the rest of us was all wrong. I begin 
to feel yer plan will work. Now let’s git a little 
sleep for them logs must be rushed some fast 
and we’ve got to lend a hand.” 

Hogan elected to take a nap in the cook’s 
camp, so that he might get up when Cub turned 
out to cook the breakfast. Although very 
weary he knew he must be stirring when the 
men came for their breakfast, else none of them 
would go to work. The others went to the scal- 
er ’s camp and after starting a fire turned in. 


368 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


They were not destined to sleep, however, for 
they had slumbered for not more than an hour 
when they were disturbed by the door opening 
and two men stepping in. 

Abner awoke with a start, fearing the axe- 
man had paid him a visit, and sharply de- 
manded, “Who’s that?” 

This challenge aroused the others, but Ho- 
gan’s voice quickly quieted their apprehensions 
by explaining, “Just one of the men. Don’t 
mind us. But he couldn’t believe you was back 
and I had to fetch him to satisfy himself afore 
he would look after the bosses.” 

“Strike a light so’s I can see how many of 
’em there are,” doggedly insisted the man. 

Hogan lighted a match and held it up near 
the bunks and the logger stared in surprise at 
the row of heads. “I swanny!” he exclaimed. 
“I surely thought ye was kidding me, Hogan. 
Yes, they’ve returned. But I had to see them 
to believe ye. Begging yer pardon for doubt- 
ing yer word, but I thought ye’d been driv’ 
to making up a yarn just to keep us fellers 
quiet. ’ ’ 

“Will ye two kindly stop that friendly con- 
versation and clear out?” roared the exasper- 
ated Abner. 

“Sorry to have troubled you, honey,” mur- 


THE AXEMAN 


369 


mured Hogan, with a touch of laughter in his 
meek tones. 

In a few minutes the five had picked up the 
broken threads of their dreams and were breath- 
ing lustily when the door again opened, and the 
old trapper came to with a start. 

‘ ‘ What is it r ’ he hoarsely demanded, and the 
others came out of the sleep on the jump. 

‘‘Easy, easy. Poster, sweetheart,’’ calmed 
Hogan’s voice. “But the boys wouldn’t be- 
lieve the man I fetched here. They suspect I 
bribed him to tell a lie — ^bad luck to them. Best 
easy, it’ll take only a minute. This is Pudgy 
Williams I’ve fetched this time. Now take a 
good look, you suspicious good-for-nothing.” 
And the flare of a match briefly illuminated the 
five indignant faces. 

“It’s them,” gleefully acknowledged Pudgy. 
“I s’pose they’re mighty tired.” 

“Mister Hogan, will ye git yer friend to cut 
his visit short 1 ’ ’ cried Foster with much asper- 
ity. 

“I feel as if someone was forever trying to 
take my picter,” groaned Abner. The boys be- 
gan to enjoy the situation. But it maddened 
the men to hear Hogan and Pudgy attempt to 
tiptoe from the camp as they knocked over a 
stool and the table in their exit. 


370 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


For the second time the men and boys pulled 
their blankets close and managed to fall asleep. 
Twenty minutes later the door opened and a 
match burning close in the Indian ^s face caused 
him to awake with a loud outcry. 

‘‘Good Lawd! what^s wrong/’ roared Abner. 

“Awful sorry,” penitently assured Hogan. 
‘ ‘ But the Frenchman is that indacint he won ’t be- 
lieve but the fellers is putting up a game on him. 
There they are, Pierre, sleeping as cosy as — ” 

“It’s a danged lie!” howled Abner, kicking 
off the blankets. “Who can sleep in such an in- 
fernal place? Anyone else in the big woods 
what wants to gaze on my face when I ’m trying 
to make up a month’s lost sleep? Wliat be ye 
two young varmints chuckling about?” This 
to Bub and Stanley. 

“Ba golly! you ban mak’ wan beeg snooze, 
eh?” grinned the Frenchman. 

“The next batch of company ye fetch in here 
I’ll brain,” warned Abner in a choked voice. 
Then as Hogan was backing out he cried, 
“What’s that noise? The horn, sure’s ye’re 
alive! Come on, fellers. I don’t know if it’s 
dinner or supper, but Cub’s blowing the horn 
for grub. I’m going to eat.” 

“It’s the breakfast horn, Abner dear,” snick- 
ered Hogan. 


CHAPTER XX 


PEOFESSOE CAELTON AEEIVES 

Cub was presiding over the kitchen range much 
like an automaton, his eyes still heavy with 
sleep. He grinned maliciously when the men 
and boys entered the camp, yawning and stretch- 
ing, and took their places at the table. Stan- 
ley and Bub were at once suspicious that their 
friend had something to do with exciting the 
men’s suspicions and causing them to intrude in 
the scaler’s camp. Cub cemented this suspi- 
cion into a firm conviction when he snickered, 
‘‘Hear you’ve been receiving quite a few cal- 
lers this morning.” 

Abner blinked at him savagely until he hap- 
pened to notice a huge stack of fritters, flanked 
by a gallon tin of maple syrup; then he mut- 
tered, “If it wasn’t for certain things my old 
eyes behold on the table I should feel peevish at 
being routed out at this unearthly hour. As it 
is I’ll forgive and forgit.” 

“Fat boy’s cooking big medicine,” remarked 
Noisy Charlie, his small eyes sparkling as he 
371 


372 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


saw the syrup. For the Indian dearly loved 
sweet things. 

“I only wish Mr. Blaine had dropped in to 
pay his respects,’^ regretfully observed Bub. 
‘‘WhaUs the day’s programme after we’ve had 
breakfast!” 

‘‘Git ready for dinner,” cried Abner, smack- 
ing his lips as he poured the syrup over a small 
mountain of fritters. 

“I opine it’s up to us to fall to and help with 
the logs,” said Foster. 

“Consider me hired out as a logger,” spoke 
up Bub. “We’ll show the men that we know a 
thing or two when it comes to handling logs. ’ ’ 

“We must do what we can,” said Abner, “but 
with a team short we can git only so many 
loads of logs to the landing. ’ ’ 

Directly after breakfast the three men and 
two boys reported to Hogan and stated their 
desire to be set at work. Hogan, with a great 
show of surprise, exclaimed, “It’s work you 
want, is it! Faith, and I s ’posed it was slum- 
ber you’d all be after till dinner time.” 

“Slumber!” snorted the old trapper. 
‘ ‘ Think anyone can sleep when their bunk-house 
is turned into a circus tent! Put us to work.” 

At first glance it did not seem as though their 
services could be utilized, as the regular crew 


PROFESSOE CAELTON ARRIVES 373 


was sufficient to keep the one team busy. But 
Hogan had taken advantage of the thaw and 
rain to supplement the work of the horses, and 
informed : 

‘‘IFs on the snow-slide you will shine, my 
darlings. Follow me.’’ He led the way to a 
steep slope that ended abruptly on a ledge some 
ten feet above the stream. Ordinarily the yards 
on this cant would have been hauled out on the 
sleds, but thanks to the rain and freezing 
weather the foreman had found a much quicker 
method. 

‘‘I’ve made two or three snow-slides leading 
down to the ledge,” he explained. “I began 
when you bold explorers were all away from 
camp and the rain and zero weather has lined 
each trough with ice. It’ll be rare slipping for 
the logs.” 

“We’ll make a lightning landing,” exulted 
Bub, meaning the logs would be shot pell-mell 
directly to the stream. 

“Except as some of them get hung up on the 
ledge. Then you’ll have to use the pickpoles 
and peavies in rolling them over. Most of them 
will clear the ledge on the jump.” 

The boys were first at the yards, enthusiastic 
to begin sending down the logs. By the time 
the men joined them, moving more slowly but 


374 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


planning more methodically, they found the task 
not so simple as it first appeared. Once a log 
was worked into the slide its own momentum 
would send it hurtling down the grade ; hut it 
remained to drag the logs into the trough. Bub 
was for working each huge timber into the re- 
quired position by the use of the peavies, all 
five assailing one log at a time and by sheer 
strength rolling it onto the slide. 

Stanley advised the use of a hawser, one end 
being made fast about a log and all uniting their 
strength in pulling it into position. 

‘‘Gim^me a pole,’^ commanded Abner. 
‘‘Younkers has lots of strength to waste, but 
when ye git old ye won’t be so free with it. 
Foster and Charlie, will ye pick out some skids 
and let these husky young giants do the rough 
work?” 

‘‘Skids all ready now,” replied Charlie, indi- 
cating some small spruce logs. At the same 
time Foster swung the axe and skillfully cleared 
these of knots. 

Bub did not have to be told what to do next, 
and, motioning to Stanley to join him, he quickly 
had two logs at right angles with the snow- 
slide. Then other skids were joined to these 
and yet more until they reached the first yard. 

“Hi! Let that bottom log be!” yelled Abner, 


PROFESSOR CARLTON ARRIVES 375 


as Stanley began lustily digging away at the 
outer and lowermost log. ‘‘Want the whole 
pile to come tumbling down on yeP’ 

“I’ll show you,” cried Bub, running nimbly 
to the top of the pile. And it pleased Abner to 
observe the manner in which he deftly loosened 
the log at the apex and sent it crashing down 
till it struck the skids. 

Abner and Foster quickly assailed it with 
their poles and using only a modicum of 
strength yanked it on to the skids and soon had 
it rolling into the trough. All hands paused in 
their labors to mark the descent of the first 
log. At first it moved slowly, barely seeming 
to creep along, and Stanley, believing it was 
about to be hung up, rushed after it and began 
pushing with his pole. 

“Kindly let that log alone,” ordered Abner. 
“It knows enough to seek a level without a 
younker prodding it in that fashion.” 

The log seemed to understand this endorse- 
ment and promptly picked up speed. Then it 
struck a pitch and shot forward nervously. 
From then on it moved swiftly, and on striking 
the ledge bounded into the air and leaped down 
onto the stream. 

“Hurrah! That’s a lightning handling all 
right,” cheered Blib, loosening another log. 


376 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Abner and Foster received this and started it 
on its way, then Stanley and Charlie stood ready 
to handle the next. Stanley was a bit awkward 
at first and the greater part of the work de- 
volved on the Indian. But after a few blunders 
and the needless expenditure of much 
strength he got the knack of it, and from then 
on he helped with every other log quite ex- 
pertly. 

‘‘This is some faster ’n hauling them down 
with the sleds, ’ ’ said Abner, as he stood waiting 
his turn. “If we could shoot all of them to the 
landing as fast as this it wouldnT take long to 
clean up the yards. ’ ’ 

Bub now expressed a desire to “swap” work 
with Charlie and the Indian obligingly ex- 
changed places with him. But the two boys, 
working together, had rolled only a few logs 
into the slide before Bub leaped up on one, and 
striking an attitude as though he were riding 
a horse bareback in the circus ring, began 
throwing kisses to his companions. Stanley 
laughed heartily till the Indian gave a grunt of 
annoyance and threw a piece of crust that struck 
Bub in the stomach and knocked him from his 
swiftly gliding perch. 

“Young Fox act foolish like booby bird,” 
growled the Indian. 


PROFESSOR CARLTON ARRIVES 377 


‘‘Thanks, Charlie. My old arm is too stiff 
to heave things like that, but it ain’t so stiff but 
what it can swing a heavy tug most brisk-like. 
What ye mean, ye onthankful varmint, by fuss- 
ing with a runaway log.” 

“I only meant to have a little fun,” meekly 
replied Bub, much chastened by his fall. 

“I’ll fun ye,” grimly promised Abner. 
“Don’t ye know that a man didn’t ought to ever 
take any chances with a logf What if ye’d kept 
on it till it was going full tilt and then it had 
whirled over, knocking ye off against a stump 
and breaking a leg, or jolting ye ahead of it so’s 
it would ram ye 1 There ’s chances enough that 
we all have to take without trying to cut up 
capers.” 

Bub apologized profusely and promised to be 
more heedful and the work was resumed. Log 
after log was sent down the slide and as the 
crew warmed up there were often three or more 
in the trough at once. The boys desired to 
make one of their logs overtake one sent down 
by the men and to achieve this used their poles 
in accelerating the speed of the pursuer. 

At last Abner called a halt and directed the 
boys and Charlie to proceed to the ledge and 
work some stranded logs over into the stream. 
This work was less exciting, but absolutely nec- 


378 


THE YOUNH LOGGEES 


essary unless they desired the logs to accumu- 
late in a rough-and-tumble landing on the ledge. 
While they were rolling the derelicts off the 
ledge Abner and the old trapper were arrang- 
ing the skids to tap another pyramid. 

Hogan visited them in the middle of the fore- 
noon and expressed great pleasure over their 
progress. ‘‘YouVe shot more logs to the land- 
ing than the one team has hauled/^ he compli- 
mented. shouldn’t wonder if we could clear 
this whole jog in the same fashion. If we can 
it’d make it easy for the bosses, once the extra 
nags come up, to yank out the other yards. ’ ’ 

‘‘We can’t git them too quick to suit me,” re- 
plied Abner. “If it wasn’t for catching this 
crazy man I’d be tempted to leave the rest here. 
They need all their teams on the Squawtooth 
and I oughter to be there a-looking after things. 
McPherson is all right, but the trouble is, he’s 
too much of a gentleman to git along with some 
of them critters.” 

Bub spoke up and assured that the men were 
working overtime in the most zealous fashion. 
As he described their rivalry and unusual ef- 
forts Abner’s brows puckered in surprise. 
“I’m glad to hear it,” he said, “but my exper- 
ience with logging crews made me feel that the 
minute I quit the camp the men would soldier.” 


PKOFESSOR CAELTON AERIVES 379 


By the time the dinner horn blew the snow- 
slides had contributed nobly to the accumula- 
tion of logs below the ledge. After dinner Ab- 
ner suggested that the boys scale the yards al- 
ready sent down the first slide while the others 
were laying the skids to slide number two. 

Descending to the stream the young loggers 
fell to work, but so jumbled and mixed up were 
the logs that Bub said they could only approxi- 
mate the number of feet. It took some time to 
accomplish this and they wondered that they 
did not hear the thunder of the big spruce bolts 
striking the ledge below them. 

Then Bub cried, ‘ I hear one ! ’ ’ 

‘‘IFs coming down our slide!’’ yelled Stan- 
ley, grabbing his friend by the arm and hauling 
him close under the ledge. 

He had hardly finished when a long, black 
object shot over their heads, showering them 
with ice and snow. 

‘‘Good heavens, but that was a narrow 
squeak!” gasped Stanley, beginning to edge up 
stream. 

“The axeman working in the daytime,” whis- 
pered Bub. 

Once they had cleared the danger zone they 
scrambled up over the ledge and scanned the 
yard on the slope. “I see him,” whispered 


380 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Bub. ‘‘He’s rolling another log into the slide. 
There were only two left and Abner said he’d 
shoot them down after dinner. ’ ’ 

Then they beheld the log start and creep laz- 
ily along until it struck the first pitch, when 
it completed its journey with a rush. 

“What shall we do? Go up to him, or get 
the men?” asked Stanley. 

With a howl of anger Bub started on the run 
up the slope. Stanley feared his friend had for 
the moment lost his mental balance and gave 
chase, calling on him to stop. 

“Stop!” bellowed Bub. “Can’t you see it 
isn ’t the axeman ? It ’s that crazy Frenchman ! ’ ’ 
It was indeed Pierre. His face wore a broad 
smile as the boys panted up the slope and be- 
fore either could let loose any reproaches, he 
proudly greeted, “Bon jour, M’sieu Malcolm; 
I mak’ de beeg log mak’ a streek. I strong wit’ 
my arm lak’ de moose.” 

So thoroughly good-natured was Pierre, so 
thoroughly unconscious of having endangered 
the boys’ lives that Bub instantly cooled down 
and glanced ruefully at Stanley. “No use to 
spit it out, eh?” he asked. 

“Not a bit,” sighed Stanley. “Although it 
would ease my mind a lot.” Then to the 
Frenchman, “See here, Pierre; don’t you shoot 


PROFESSOR CARLTON ARRIVES 381 


any more logs down the slides unless ordered 
to.’’ 

‘‘Ver’ well, M’sieu; I ban wan greet worker. 
I work rat off ma foot. I wan de bes’ man in 
de wood,” answered Pierre. 

‘‘That’s another danger in logging,” com- 
mented Bub, as the Frenchman made off for the 
camp. “Someone does something without or- 
ders and then someone gets a broken leg or 
skull.” 

“Like your riding the log down the slide,” 
gravely observed Stanley. 

Bub reddened, but before he could make re- 
sponse the cook’s horn sounded three short 
blasts. 

“That’s for us,” cried Stanley. “What’s 
wrong now, I wonder.” 

“WThy, the men haven’t gone to work yet,” 
worried Bub, beginning to hasten towards the 
camp. 

As they entered the dingle they saw a tote 
sled driven away to the horse-hovel while a litter 
of boxes and other supplies before the door 
of the cook’s camp told them that the first of 
the sleds had arrived from the Squaw- 
tooth. 

On entering they found themselves the focal 
point for the combined gaze of Abner, Foster, 


382 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


Noisy Charlie, Hogan and the grinning Cub. 
From the latter ’s mirthful expression they knew 
they had been criticised by the men. 

‘‘All right, said Bub. “We rushed down 
here, fearing a porcupine had frightened you, 
or that you’d fallen into a squirrel’s hole and 
needed digging out. All right, I say; what’s 
wrong now, that you stare at us as if we were 
a band of outlaws?” 

“The driver of the tote sled has told us all,” 
solemnly informed Abner. 

“And I leave for the Squawtooth this after- 
noon to have a little talk with Daniels and Joe 
Blue,” bitterly added Hogan. 

“No, no, Hogan,” firmly insisted Abner. 
“You’ll stick here and boss the work. I’ll run 
down to the Squawtooth and mildly explain 
several matters to them two chaps.” 

“Ye both are needed here,” gravely spoke up 
the old trapper. “Professor Carlton and his 
friend is due to come any minute and ye must 
be here to welcome him. I’ll go to the Squaw- 
tooth and give ’em their needings.” 

“Injun best go; go-um trip quick,” earnestly 
pleaded Charlie. 

“Then I’ll find them and hammer some sense 
into their heads after ye git through with ’em,” 
angrily declared Hogan. “No man in my crew 


PROFESSOR CARLTON ARRIVES 383 


can cut up nasty and tackle a friend, let alone 
.these two boys, without settling with me. ’ ’ 

It was now plain to the young loggers that 
the driver had hastened to narrate the incidents 
attending their arrival at the Squawtooth bunk- 
house. Stanley assured, ‘‘No one has hurt us. 
You speak as if someone had wronged us.^^ 
“Isn’t it wronging ye when two camp bull- 
ies insult ye?” wrathfully exploded Abner. 
“Them two camp inspectors (loafers) not only 
cut up nasty with McPherson, the man I left in 
charge, but they also assault my relative and 
the nephew of President Thaxter.” 

“I’ll start this minute, orders or no orders,” 
passionately cried the Irishman. “And may 
the snow melt under my feet.” 

“Just a moment,” laughed Stanley. “No 
one has been injured, except the two men who 
acted foolish. They’ve been taught their les- 
son and they’ll work like sin from now on. I 
promised them that if they changed their ways 
nothing more should be done about it. You 
fellows must help me make that promise good.” 

“The driver had no business to tell,” grum- 
bled Bub. ‘ ‘ Think we want the men down there 
to believe that we came up here and bleated 
about a little fuss like that?” 

Abner’s eyes glowed with admiration and af- 


384 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


fection as lie vainly songlit to stifle the pride in 
his voice as he asked, ‘‘Did ye give ’em a good 
and plenty, BubT’ 

Believing they had won their point Bub re- 
lated with racy humor the incidents of the fra- 
cas, imitating both Rink Daniels and Joe Blue 
in such a comical fashion that Cub howled with 
delight and insisted on crowning him a hero 
with a big dish of pie-crust. The interview 
ended with the men promising to say nothing to 
either of the mutineers, letting the whole mat- 
ter rest. 

But Hogan felt compelled to aver, “I’ll keep 
me word, but the first time one of them looks 
cross-eyed at me I know something will hap- 
pen.” 

“You’ll find them two of the best men you’ve 
got, Hogan darling,” assured Bub. “For we 
told them if they didn’t walk straight they’d 
have to answer to you. ’ ’ 

This pleased the Irishman and he announced 
his readiness to return to work. As they passed 
from the room they caught the jingle-jangle of 
bells, and Stanley cried, “Here comes the other 
sled and Professor Carlton ought to be on it.” 

“I see him!” yelled Bub, dashing down the 
road. 

Professor Carlton, a sad-faced man, whose 


PROFESSOE CARLTON ARRIVES 385 


gentle smile only accentuated tlie pathos of his 
face, was highly pleased to meet his young 
friends and for several seconds was kept busy 
shaking hands with the men. 

‘‘But I thought you had a friend — ” Abner 
began, when a mound of robes and blankets on 
the sled began to move and a short, round-faced, 
fat little man emerged to view. 

‘ ‘ This is Doctor Royce, my friend and physi- 
cian,’’ informed Professor Carlton. Then he 
made known each of his friends to the doctor. 

One glance was enough to convince them the 
doctor was a character, so oddly did he strut 
about and so searchingly did he scrutinize the 
different ones in the party. After the presen- 
tations had been completed he suddenly whipped 
out a stethoscope and clapped it on the mus- 
cular chest of the amazed Indian, murmuring, 
“Excuse me, but I must listen to your mitral 
valve. I’m getting statistics on the heart ac- 
tion of various classes of men and find you 
woodsmen most interesting. Huh ! I don’t be- 
lieve anything less than a cannon ball could 
affect your heart.” 

“Medicine man listen to voices in um thing?” 
asked Charlie in a timid voice. 

“I do, sir,” brusquely replied the doctor. 
“Here, listen yourself.” 


386 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


And he adjusted the instrument till the star- 
tled Indian was hearing the strong thud-thud 
of his own heart. 

‘‘Big medicine/’ muttered Charlie in a voice 
of awe. ‘ ‘ I hear-um talking loud. Now I don ’t 
hear-um. Where sound go toT’ 

His puzzled query followed the doctor’s ac- 
tion in removing the instrument and turning 
quickly to Abner and clapping it over his heart. 

‘ ‘ Stand still, sir, ’ ’ sternly cried the doctor. ‘ ‘ I 
must get your aortic.” 

“But I’m all right,” gurgled Abner, trying 
to hold his breath and growing very apprehen- 
sive of expression. 

“That’s the trouble,” gloomily returned the 
doctor, slowly pocketing his instrument. “ I ’ve 
hunted high and low ever since entering these 
interesting woods and I can’t find a trace of 
mitral trouble.” 

“Suppose we bear up as best we can,” gently 
quizzed the professor, “and step inside and 
have a bite to eat.” 

As they filed back into the cook’s camp, with 
Noisy Charlie keeping at a distance from the 
doctor, the professor took occasion to whisper 
hurriedly, “Dr. Royce is one of the most cele- 
brated surgeons in the country. He has his 
hobbies and will impress you at first as being 


PEOFESSOE CAELTON AEEIVES 387 


eccentric, but a more kindly, generous-hearted 
man you will never meet. ’ ’ 

‘‘IFs enough for ye to say he’s a friend of 
yers,” warmly assured Abner. We’ve just 
finished picking at the victuals, but now ye’ve 
come I guess I’ll have another taste.” 

They entered in time to behold the doctor 
chasing the nervous Cub about the room, the 
latter strongly inclined to resent the applica- 
tion of the stethoscope. But the doctor cor- 
nered him at last and fiercely informed, ^‘No 
man can cook for me till I know what condi- 
tion his heart is in. ’ ’ 

‘‘But I tell you I don’t want to take out any 
life insurance,” protested Cub as he submitted 
with ill grace. 

“Abnormally and abominably healthy,” re- 
gretted the doctor, replacing the instrument. 
“Now, sir; how much time have you devoted to 
the study of dietetics!” 

“Don’t know what you mean,” answered Cub. 
“But if you’s fond of punkin pie there’s one 
that’s worth swimming seven miles under water 
to sample, even if I did make it.” 

“Umph!” grunted the doctor, causing the 
Indian to step back before his quick, nervous 
gaze. “Pumpkin pie is not fit for a man to 
eat — ■” then he paused and tentatively tasted of 


388 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


it, ‘‘unless he likes it.’’ As he concluded his 
statement he helped himself to half the pie, 
much to Abner’s chagrin, and eagerly began 
devouring it. 

“Doctor, doctor,” laughingly restrained the 
professor, “remember we have other good 
things. I see meat and beans and doughnuts 
and warm biscuit and more pie. ’ ’ 

“They’re all good,” briefly assented the doc- 
tor, “but I’m going to make sure of this now.” 

“My son, that man is going to be a source of 
great joy to us,” whispered Bub to Stanley. 

Abner fell to and ate heartily, just to keep 
the others company he explained. As they fin- 
ished Dr. Eoyce became grave and speaking 
quietly said, “I’ve induced Professor Carlton 
to come up here to recover from a serious shock. 
As his friend and physician I have recom- 
mended a certain amount of hard work, work 
with the hands and muscles, work that will make 
him sleep soundly at night. He is troubled with 
insomnia. I wish him to start in now on some- 
thing laborious.” 

“We’ll take him out to the snow-slide and 
he can help roll in the logs,” eagerly offered 
Bub. “And won’t you come, too. Doctor?” 

“Can this young man be trusted to make an- 
other pumpkin pie while I’m gone?” sternly 


PEOFESSOE CAELTON AEEIVES 389 


asked the doctor. not I shall stay here and 
watch him.’^ 

Being assured that Cub would not disappoint 
him he struggled into his great coat and accom- 
panied his hosts up the cant. Hogan was now 
working with the regular crew, the two extra 
teams greatly expediting the work of hauling. 

Abner gave the professor a peavey and in- 
structed him how to use it to the best advantage. 
Dr. Eoyce rebelled at that and explained he 
wanted his friend to use up all the muscular 
energy he could. ‘‘Don’t tell him the right 
way,” he begged. “Let him struggle and get 
tired.” 

But Professor Carlton had not served as fire- 
warden on Hood Mountain without learning 
something of a logger’s ways, and quickly 
proved himself an adept at the work. With 
lithe . ease he held his own when aiding Abner, 
and the Indian more than once grunted his ap- 
proval. 

As the first log was rolled into the slide the 
doctor seated himself upon it, apparently not 
realizing it was intended to shoot down the de- 
cline. Stanley started to call out a warning 
but the doctor began talking loudly, drowning 
out all admonitions. “I have heard it put for- 
ward in theory,” he began, frowning and wav- 


390 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


ing his audience to remain silent, ‘Hhat life in 
the open may tend to upset the physical equili- 
brium if — ’’ 

He never finished his statement, as at that 
moment the log gave a little jump and the doc- 
tor, after riding several rods, rolled otf on his 
back. It was with difficulty that the boys man- 
aged to suppress smiles as they beheld his short 
stocky legs waving in the air. Charlie was 
the first to gain his side and lift him to his 
feet. 

‘^Who pushed that log out from under meU^ 
cried the doctor, glaring about. 

The professor smiled indulgently and pointed 
to the black streak now darting down the icy 
groove. Then he explained the purpose of the 
slide until the doctor interrupted and horrified 
the old trapper by intimating he might desire 
to make a blood-test that evening. 

For several hours the volunteers worked, 
finding much to amuse them in the doctor ^s ways 
and speech. Only Charlie retained his com- 
posure, for he was firmly convinced that the 
doctor was a big medicine man, one who could 
make a man’s insides talk. For the boys the 
afternoon passed all too quickly. They had in- 
dulged in much inward laughter as they labored. 
Consequently they were taken back when the 


PROFESSOR CARLTON ARRIVES 391 


supper-horn blew and the doctor fell behind and 
abruptly announced: 

‘‘YouVe been laughing at me, young sirs. 
Tush ! tush ! DonT deny it. It^s all right. You 
think I’m a peculiar man, eh? Tut, tut, I say. 
I know you do. Don’t lie for the sake of being 
polite. Well, I am peculiar. Wouldn’t you be 
peculiar if you’d spent your life listening to 
sick people and to people who think they are 
sick, telling what’s the matter with them, what 
they think is the matter with them,' and the like ? 
Don’t answer me; I know.” 

‘‘We know you are a celebrated surgeon and 
a very kind-hearted man,” said Stanley. 
‘ ‘ That ’s enough to know about any man. ’ ’ 

“I’m not kind-hearted,” growled the doctor. 
“Don’t you dare say so. But listen; Professor 
Carlton has met with a sad loss. He doesn’t 
care to mention it, unless it’s absolutely neces- 
sary. Don’t ask him any questions. When I 
have an opportunity I’ll tell you the facts. 
You Ye old friends of his and it’s right you 
should know. Then you’ll appreciate his need 
of diversion and can aid me the more intelli- 
gently in helping him. Sometimes I think he 
finds something in my mannerisms to laugh at. 
Does that impress you as being possible?” 
And he turned with a little-bird-like movement 


392 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


of the head and squinted up into Bub^s face. 
Bub grew very red and sought to compose his 
features. It was a hopeless task, and regard- 
less of Stanley’s indignation he threw back his 
head and laughed uproariously. 

In an instant the doctor had whipped out his 
stethoscope and was listening to the left lung. 
Bub quieted down at once. ‘^Go on, go on!” 
testily commanded the doctor. “What do you 
mean stopping when I was about to get the full 
volume? How dare you, sir? Say ‘ninety- 
nine.’ Again. Louder! Repeat. Dear, dear; 
too bad! Not a symptom of any dullness. I 
was in hopes I could find a mild case to experi- 
ment upon. I begin to believe I ’m wasting my 
time up here.” 

Cub’s eyes glistened as he caught sight of the 
doctor’s round face. The little man had made 
a deep impression on him, although he did not 
relish being made to furnish a clinic. “There 
is your pie, sir,” he politely announced, point- 
ing to a noble pastry before the doctor’s plate. 
“It’s your individual property.” 

“Did you sterilize the spoons, knives and 
other implements you used in preparing it?” 
asked the doctor. 

Cub bashfully replied that he hadn’t ob- 
served any such precaution ; whereat the doctor 


PROFESSOR CARLTON ARRIVES 393 


excitedly condemned the pie, saying it was un- 
safe to eat and that he wouldn’t touch it. Cub’s 
face fell, for he had planned the pie as a per- 
sonal triumph, one that the doctor would long 
remember after he had returned to the city. 

‘^I’ll take a chance on it,” gravely remarked 
Abner, leaning forward and cutting out a gen- 
erous wedge. admire yer wisdom, Doctor. 
Ye can’t be too careful up here. But we old 
fellers, what’s used to it, don’t mind taking 
risks. ’ ’ 

The doctor glared at him reproachfully and 
then sniffed again as the appetizing odor met 
his nostrils ; and although he had not yet tasted 
of the more substantial viands he seized what 
was left of the pie and hastily removed it to his 
plate, remarking dryly : 

‘‘I am inclined to believe, sir, that a man with 
the heart action you possess must be a safe 
guide for me to follow. I’ll try this pie my- 
self.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


THE PEOFESSOE^S DISCOVEEY 

Foe an hour after supper Doctor Royce kept 
the boys and men chuckling at his whimsical 
ways and sayings. Nor did he fail to appreci- 
ate the fact he was posing as an entertainer; 
and his eyes would twinkle and gleam when the 
boys gave way to their risibles, and he would 
sternly demand to know the cause of their 
mirth. 

Upon the loggers he made a profound im- 
pression. Pudgy Williams was deeply inter- 
ested in the stethoscope and roundly declared 
he should buy several just as soon as he received 
his season ^s pay and reached a settlement. 

want more’n one/’ he gravely explained, 
want enough for a mess.” This statement 
incited the doctor to laugh long and loudly, 
somewhat to Williams’ indignation. 

Pierre, the Frenchman, frankly confessed he 
was afraid of the doctor, and he fled from the 
cook’s camp the moment he had bolted his sup- 
per. His fright was largely due to the doctor’s 

394 


THE PROFESSOR’S DISCOVERY 395 


persistent chase of him about the room to exam- 
ine his lungs. 

‘ ‘ Ba golly ! She mak ’ ma heart joomp rat up 
to ma head when he tak’ heem telefaphone and 
put heem to her ear,” complained Pierre, once 
he gained his bunk. 

During this period of fun the boys did not 
neglect to observe their old friend, the profes- 
sor. They noticed his face was habitually sad- 
dened in expression, although at times he 
smiled or chuckled at some absurd happening. 
But not once during the evening did he offer 
to go into the painful details of his brother’s 
death. Nor did the doctor fail to study his cli- 
ent. In spite of his many eccentric actions he 
kept a sharp eye on the professor and broke up 
the little gathering by abruptly directing, ‘ ‘ Carl- 
ton, you go to bed at once.” 

suppose I had better,” sighed the profes- 
sor, rising. ^ ‘ I hope I shall sleep. ’ ’ 

‘‘Sleep!” roared the doctor. “Of course 
you’ll sleep. Didn’t it make you feel sleepy to 
watch me handle those logs this afternoon! If 
you don’t sleep I’ll have you chopping down 
trees during the night.” 

“We’d better leave that work — ” began Ho- 
gan, when Stanley kicked his shin. The Irish- 
man took the hint and did not complete his sen- 


396 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


tence. He had intended to add they would 
leave all nocturnal labors for the gray axeman. 
But Stanley believed the subject was not a quiet- 
ing one for a victim of insomnia to inquire into. 

Abner explained that the professor and his 
friend were to have the scaler ^s camp and that 
he would show him the way. Foster and Noisy 
Charlie decided they also would turn in and de- 
parted for the bunk-house. This left the doc- 
tor alone with the three hoys ; he would follow 
the professor shortly, he said. 

The moment the door was closed his face grew 
grave and his speech very sober and earnest as 
he rapidly said, know I can trust you three 
boys. I want you all to help me with Professor 
Carlton. He’s in a sad state of shattered 
nerves. It’s been months since the man has 
had a decent night’s rest. At times I feared 
for his mind. Since coming to Maine and liv- 
ing in the open he has improved, but not as 
much as I should desire to see. You, Cub, can 
help him by your excellent cooking; for only by 
good wholesome food can he keep up his 
strength. He’s eaten more in the two meals 
he’s had in this camp than he’s eaten in any 
two days up till now.” 

Cub blushed with pride and ducked his head 
sheepishly and began to decide that even a cook 


THE PROFESSOE’S DISCOVERY 397 


was not without his importance to organized 
society. 

^ ^ Stanley and Bub have helped a lot by their 
merry ways. They kept the professor ^s mind 
occupied with wholesome things this afternoon, 
and he really worked with a genuine spirit. He 
got interested in that log business. Not that 
I can see much use in it all, as there’s no reason 
why the trees shouldn’t be chopped down on the 
banks of the stream and thus eliminate all this 
log-rolling. What are you laughing at, sir?” 
— the last to Bub, who strove to wipe a grin 
from his face. ^‘Do you mean to say by that 
grimace that you don’t agree with me?” 

‘‘Not a bit. Doctor,” penitently replied Bub. 
“There’s no more reason why the trees 
shouldn’t always be cut along the banks of 
streams than there is why people shouldn’t al- 
ways break the same leg when they run into 
accidents. ’ ’ 

“Umph!” mumbled the doctor. “Sometime 
to-morrow I want to examine your head and see 
if you have any cranial trouble. When I meet 
a sly, grimacing individual I always fear some- 
thing is the matter with his brain. To con- 
tinue : I want you boys to revive all associations, 
talk with him about his daughter, about his for- 
mer life on Hood Mountain, of President Thax- 


398 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


ter ; in short, about anything that will bring up 
a pleasant train of recollections. But never 
mention his brother. 

^Ht may be that he will speak of him to you. 
If so, do not press him with questions. He may 
volunteer some details ; if he does do not make 
any comments. He’s fighting it all the time. 
Now that we’re alone I don’t mind telling you 
that his whole trouble has been induced by his 
brother’s death. His brother, Eoscoe Carl- 
ton, was a very energetic, bright-minded fellow, 
who injured his superb health by too close ap- 
plication to his books. To regain his health he 
interested himself in field work in forestry. It 
was while pursuing his hobby in New Hamp- 
shire, and just as his physician had pronounced 
him restored to all his old time vigor, that a limb 
fell from a tree and injured his skull. I was 
west at the time, visiting with Professor Carl- 
ton in Denver. When we learned the ill news 
Professor Carlton wired for details and was in- 
formed that a blood clot or a splinter of bone 
was pressing on the brain and had rendered 
Eoscoe oblivious to all his former life. He re- 
membered nothing except his passionate interest 
in forestry. It was his one mania. Then Pro- 
fessor Carlton telegraphed a second time, stat- 
ing I was to accompany him east and perform 


THE PROFESSOR’S DISCOVERY 399 


the operation. That being his earnest wish. 
Any other reputable surgeon could have per- 
formed the operation equally as well as I; but 
as his brother’s physical health remained good 
and there was no apparent reason why the case 
could not wait the few days necessary to bring 
us half way across the continent, I was pleased 
to assent to his wishes. 

now wish I had refused, that another had 
acted quickly and at once. For it was while 
waiting for us to arrive that Roscoe escaped 
the kindly surveillance, with which he was sur- 
rounded, and made off into the woods. The at- 
tending physician and friends gave chase and 
came up with him just as he was about to 
plunge into Dead River — not your Dead River 
here in Maine, but a branch of Diamond River. 
It is a narrow stream, nearly dry in summer. 
But this was in the early fall and recent rains 
had filled it bankful. They saw him plunge in, 
but although they waited long and searched 
earnestly they never saw him emerge. Nor was 
his body ever found. 

‘‘So you can see that in addition to losing his 
only brother, Professor Carlton is obsessed by 
the morbid belief that he is responsible for Ros- 
coe ’s death. For, he argues, had he not in- 
sisted that the attending physician wait till he 


400 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


and I could arrive, some local surgeon would 
have performed the necessary operation at once 
and Roscoe would have immediately been re- 
stored to his old self, thus escaping death. It’s 
very sad. Here! Let me feel of your pulse.” 
This was put to Stanley, who, like Bub, was 
keenly affected by the recital. 

The doctor seized the boy ’s wrist and his eyes 
flew open in amazement as he counted the ter- 
rific racing of the lad’s pulse. Stanley’s face 
also caused the doctor to whistle softly. It 
was strained and white, and the eyes glittered 
feverishly. Turning abruptly the doctor placed 
his practised hand on Bub’s wrist and again he 
counted the throbbing beats in deep bewilder- 
ment. 

‘‘Most remarkable,” he stuttered, mopping 
his brow and then proceeding to make some en- 
tries in a small note-book. “I was convinced 
you two were as healthy as the outdoor wind. I 
begin to have high hopes you will prove to be of 
considerable pathological interest. Let me feel 
of your pulse, sir. ’ ’ 

But Cub’s wrist told no story. It was regu- 
lar and firm, although his face was troubled and 
vexed as he beheld the strong emotions of his 
two friends. “Alas, I can hope for nothing 
from you,” mumbled the doctor. Then with a 


THE PROFESSOR’S DISCOVERY 401 


merry smile lie added, ‘‘That is, nothing except 
exquisite pumpkin pies.” 

This concluded his confidences, and, with an- 
other injunction for them to repeat nothing of 
what he had told them, he waddled oft to bed, 
only pausing before the bunk-house door and 
expressing his intention to examine the French- 
man ’s throat. Finally persuaded by the boys to 
forego the experiment on the grounds that 
Pierre would arouse the whole community by 
his outcries, the doctor said good-night and 
passed on to the scaler’s camp. 

The boys, like the men, had withdrawn from 
the scaler’s camp so as to afford their guests a 
certain amount of privacy. To-night they were 
to bunk in with the loggers. 

Having had but little sleep during the last 
forty-eight hours they slept like logs till re- 
peated blasts on the horn informed them they 
were the last ones to get up. On entering the 
cook’s camp they found Cub laughing immod- 
erately as he dished out the oatmeal. When 
he could compose himself he described Pierre’s 
sudden flight from the room when the doctor 
stole up behind him and attempted to measure 
his neck. 

“Poor Pierre believed the doctor intended to 
hang him,” sobbed Cub. “If it wasn’t for his 


402 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


fear of the axeman he’d keep right on going 
till he strnck the Squawtooth. ’ ’ 

He then told the boys that Abner, Foster and 
the Indian had eaten, as had Professor Carlton 
and the doctor, and that all five had set out to 
shoot more logs down the snow-slides. 

‘ ‘ Did anyone say how the professor slept last 
night?” eagerly asked Bub. 

heard him tell the doctor it was the best 
night’s rest he’d had since it happened.” 

‘^Good!” cried Stanley. 

‘H’m using his own words. After he said, 
‘since it happened,’ he fell to shivering and 
twisting and acted real sick,” continued Cub. 
“That was when the doctor tackled Pierre and 
the Frenchman made a head-dive through the 
door. Dear! dear! But it was funny! Pierre 
came in early to dodge the doctor. Wlien he 
saw the doctor seating himself at the table he 
began bolting his food, keeping one eye on 
guard. He’d shifted his gaze for a second just 
as the doctor stole up behind him. And the yell 
he let out when he felt the tape about his neck 
could have been heard down at Umbagog.” 

As the boys hurried to reach the snow-slide 
they eyed each other in silence for a few mo- 
ments; then Bub said, “I know what you’re 
thinking of. You’re thinking the same as I am, 


THE PROFESSOE’S DISCOVERY 403 


only you don’t dare tell it, any more than I 
want to just yet.” 

hardly dare hope it,” said Stanley. ^‘Yet 
I wonder, I wonder!” 

‘^No wonder our pulses jumped up out of 
sight when the thought struck us,” added Bub. 
‘‘If we’d spoken what was on our minds I guess 
the doctor would have gone through the roof.” 

“It’s all so unreal, seems so impossible,” 
cried Stanley, “that I hardly dare think of it. 
But we must put it to the test soon. ’ ’ 

“Yes; very soon,” gravely agreed Bub. “If 
we don’t I shall get as fidgety as the professor. 
Hear them yelling.” 

“I’ll bet the doctor has distinguished him- 
self ! ’ ’ cried Stanley, breaking into a run. 

As they came in sight of the men they ob- 
served that something out of the ordinary had 
happened. The doctor was leaping wildly 
about in the snow, waving his arms frantically. 
The others stood leaning well back and staring 
up into the heavens. 

“It can’t be an airship at this time of the 
year,” panted Stanley. 

“It’s something of enough importance to 
cause Abner to keep quiet,” puffed Bub. 

As they dashed up to the little circle they 
beheld that the faces of all the men, with the 


404 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


exception of the pale countenance of the pro- 
fessor, were red and swollen. Then they noted 
the doctor’s face was thus from continued cry- 
ing aloud and that the others had congested their 
blood vessels in a mighty effort to smother their 
laughter. Even the professor’s face wore a 
quiet smile. For the first time the boys then 
observed that the doctor was bareheaded. 

^ ‘ Oh, Lordy ! ’ ’ cried Bub, sinking on to a log. 
“A Canada jay has swiped the doctor’s cap.” 

This was the true solution of all the excite- 
ment and suppressed mirth. Far above their 
heads, comfortably perched on the dead branch 
of a dying spruce was a Canada jay, or “moose 
bird,” as the trappers and hunters call him, or 
“camp robber” as some of his many victims 
style him. And he was holding the doctor’s 
cloth cap and examining it critically, entirely 
unconcerned because of the confusion his theft 
had created. 

“You villain!” yelled the doctor, shaking his 
fist at the thief. “Oh, you bird of ill omen! 
How dare you ! Throw down that cap ! ’ ’ 

“How did it happen?” Bub managed to ask 
of the old trapper. 

“It couldn’t never happen to anyone but the 
doctor,” faintly replied Foster, doubling up 
with silent laughter. “We hadn’t any more’n 


THE PEOFESSOE’S DISCOVEEY 405 


got here when the doctor took off his cap and 
’lowed it was the proper caper to let the air 
circulate over his bare head. Said the ozone 
or some such contraption was good for the scalp 
as it was good for the lungs. He placed his 
cap side of him. Then I heard the Injun give 
a half-strangled grunt and looked up in time 
to see the bird flying away with the cap. What 
the doctor ain’t threatened to do to him, once 
he gits him on an operating table ain’t worth 
threatening.” 

‘‘This is carrying a joke too far!” howled 
the doctor, now slapping his head briskly as 
the tender scalp began to tingle. “I shall hold 
you men responsible. I consider that dastardly 
bird a member of this logging crew. I view 
you each and everyone as particeps criminis. 
You are accessory before and after the fact. 
The principal is more guilty than the agent.” 

This sent Abner off into a shriek of cackling 
merriment and only the Indian became sober. 
He didn’t understand just what the doctor was 
saying, but he feared he was making some pow- 
erful “medicine.” 

“Me get-um cap,” he gravely promised. 

“You’re the only honest man in the woods!” 
exclaimed the doctor. “Get it and then name 
your own reward.” 


406 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


The Indian shifted his position till the sun 
was at his back and then picked up the rifle 
which Foster always carried with him. 

Raising this he aimed quickly and pulled the 
trigger, and at the same moment the doctor 
cried, ‘‘Don’t kill the poor bird! The cap isn’t 
worth it!” 

Before he had finished the end of the dead 
branch dropped to the ground while the cap 
floated downward gently. 

“No try to kill-um bird,” smiled Noisy Char- 
lie. ‘ ‘ Shoot-um branch off and bird let-um cap 
drop. ’ ’ 

“I wouldn’t minded much if you had killed 
the rascal, ’ ’ fumed the doctor. ‘ ‘ Only I ’ve been 
planning to kill him myself. Many thanks for 
the favor.” 

“Let-um Injun hear heart talk sometime?” 
timidly asked Charlie. 

“Gracious, yes. And I’ll let you hear your- 
self breathe,” readily promised the doctor. 
Then to the chuckling men, ‘ ‘ Why do you stand 
round here idle? I want these logs set in mo- 
tion. Professor, get to work or I’ll discharge 
you.” 

“We’ll try and make up for lost time,” 
weakly promised Abner in a meek voice. “And 
here’s these lazy younkers what can help.” 


THE PROFESSOR’S DISCOVERY 407 


they’d been here when they were due that 
rascal of a bird wouldn’t have had a chance to 
steal my cap,” coldly observed the doctor. 
believe they have some form of liver trouble. 
No healthy boys can sleep as late.” 

The logs were now assailed in earnest, the 
professor working with every ounce of strength 
he possessed. He refused to spare himself 
when he could and the boys shrewdly deduced he 
was trying to tire himself out so completely 
that slumber must follow his relaxation at night. 
Because of this conviction neither of them at- 
tempted to save him any stejDS, and even worked 
to feed along the logs a bit faster than he could 
handle them. So deeply engrossed were they in 
their labors, and so keenly did the veterans seek 
to keep abreast of them and set them even a 
swifter pace, that none in the crew noticed when 
the doctor stole away into the woods. 

They were conscious of a wild cry from the 
direction of the camp, but gave it scant heed. 
It was not until Hogan approached them that 
they slowed up for a breathing spell, and Ab- 
ner asked, How’s the work going with 
you!” 

‘‘Fine, fine,” said Hogan, yet with brows 
contracted. ‘ ‘ That is, it’s moving along as well 
as I could expect with one man short.” 


408 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


‘‘Who’s quit?” demanded Abner, his beard 
bristling in a belligerent fashion. 

“Oh, it’s the Frenchman,” sighed Hogan. 
‘ ‘ He was working like a beaver one minute, and 
the next he was streaking it towards the camp 
with the doctor at his heels. With all respect 
for Professor Carlton I wish the doctor 
wouldn’t keep chasing Husette around. He’s 
crazy enough when let alone. Now he believes 
the doctor wants to operate on him and cut him 
up.” 

“I’ll try to reason with him,” smiled the 
professor. “But he’s a hard man to handle. 
Here he comes now. ’ ’ 

The doctor, frowning heavily, trotted up at 
this juncture, his face showing some keen dis- 
appointment. “What’s the matter with that 
Frenchman ? ” he indignantly demanded. ‘ ‘ Why 
do you have such people in your crew, Mr. Ho- 
gan? He’s the only ambidextrous logger I’ve 
seen, and simply because I wanted to compare 
measurements of his fore and upper arms he 
runs away, screeching like a lunatic. Doesn’t 
the man realize that my time is valuable and 
that I can’t keep chasing him through the 
woods?” 

“Sure, doctor dear, he thinks you’ll be after 
charging him for an office call,” cried Hogan, 


THE PEOPESSOR’S DISCOVERY 409 


his sense of the ridiculous now asserting itself 
and causing him to join in the general shout of 
laughter. ‘ ^ And where did you leave him! ’ ’ 

‘‘He left me/^ snapped the doctor. “Like 
that confounded robber bird that just stole my 
cap he climbed a tree. I wonder if my dusky 
friend couldn’t shoot him out of the tree!” 
And he turned to Noisy Charlie questioningly. 

Before Charlie could decide on an answer the 
dinner-horn blew and a rush was made for the 
camp. The boys found Pierre crouching in the 
top of a spruce and could only coax him down 
after repeated promises that he should be un- 
harmed. 

“Sapre!” he moaned. “I t’ink I ban mad 
lak’ a — lak’ a — ” 

“Like a woodchuck,” gravely supplied Bub. 

^'Oui! Lak’ wan beeg woodchuck,” groaned 
Pierre. 

Throughout the dinner the Frenchman sat 
next to the door, with his feet gathered for a 
spring should the little doctor come near him. 
Only the boys’ avowal that they had promised 
Pierre he should not be molested, intimidated 
or frightened, restrained the doctor from en- 
deavoring once more to add to his notes. 

Yet beneath this whimsical behavior the boys 
were conscious that the doctor was enjoying the 


410 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


various situations immensely, and more than 
once they decided he enjoyed making sport for 
them to laugh at fully as much as they enjoyed 
witnessing it. And through it all they also 
noted there was scarcely a minute when the 
professor was not under his shrewd observation. 
No matter how amusingly he might be telling a 
story, or with what sternness he was bossing 
Abner about and usurping the duties of Hogan, 
he was ever watching his client from the corner 
of his eye. As they filed out to return to the 
yards Stanley saw him quickly place a hand on 
the professor ^s wrist. When next he had an 
opportunity to observe his face it was sorrow- 
ful in its expression, and the boy seemed to de- 
tect a hopeless brooding stare in the usually 
merry eyes. Detecting the boy^s glance he fell 
in beside him and mumbled, “He needs some- 
thing to jolt him out of himself, something 
startling.’’ 

Stanley pondered over this bit of confidence 
throughout the afternoon, as he beheld the pro- 
fessor doggedly sticking to the hard work al- 
though his thin face was drawn with fatigue. 
It was pathetic to see the man, scholarly in his 
mental gifts, generous to a fault in his daily 
associations with his fellows, slowly eating his 
heart out beneath self-censure. The boy also 


THE PROFESSOR DISCOVERY 411 


remembered the daughter, Miss Laura, and 
wondered what it would all mean to her if her 
father did not succeed in casting off the black 
load. There was but little merriment in the 
party that afternoon. 

Directly after supper the professor with a 
few brief words said he would retire. This 
time the doctor accompanied him. 

The boys remained with the men, idly listen- 
ing to their conversation and wondering when 
they could set out to find the axeman. Some 
thirty minutes after the professor and his com- 
panion had quit their company they were all 
startled by a wild cry, a voicing aloud of sud- 
den anguish. As a unit they dashed from the 
camp. The cry sounded again, this time from 
the scaler ^s camp, and with rapidly beating 
hearts they made for it. The doctor opened 
the door just as they arrived. Their startled 
faces demanded an explanation, and without a 
word he pointed inside. 

They entered to find the professor sobbing 
bitterly over a black note-book. When he be- 
held them he hoarsely cried, ‘‘My poor dead 
brother's writing — and I find it up here.’’ 

“It can’t be,” gasped Stanley, while Bub was 
too stunned to speak. 

“Aye, it is,” fiercely exclaimed the professor. 


412 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


‘‘To think I should run across this reminder of 
him up in these wilds I I can’t stand the strain. 
I can not stand it!” 

“But how can you identify his handwriting?” 
persisted Stanley. 

“Oh, don’t ask me! Don’t bother me! 
Leave me, please ! Go ! ” 

“Yes, you’d better go now,” murmured the 
doctor. 

Steadying himself by a mighty effort Stanley 
said, “No, I must insist on a reply to my ques- 
tion. Professor Carlton, we’re your friends. 
Tell me how you know that handwriting is your 
brother’s. I must know.” 

The professor eyed him dully for a moment 
and then resignedly answered, “There is no 
doubting it. How do I know a friend’s face 
when I see it? How do I know I am Professor 
Carlton?” 

“I mean how could you prove to me or any 
of my friends that this is his handwriting,” 
cried Stanley, and strive as he would he could 
not prevent his voice breaking. 

The doctor gave him a startled glance and 
then edged about, not to study his patient, but 
to devour the boy’s face with his searching eyes. 

In a deep, grave voice he curtly commanded, 
without shifting his gaze from the lad’s strained 


THE PEOFESSOR^S DISCOVERY 413 


countenance, ^‘Answer his question as fully as 
you can, Professor/’ 

Bracing himself Professor Carlton rapidly 
said, “The character of the Greek ‘e’ which he 
always employed, his habit of crossing his H’s’ 
with an unusually long, strong stroke, some- 
times the stroke extending the length of the 
entire word ; and lastly, his habit of continuing 
the final stroke in a sharp upward curve. All 
these make his chirography very noticeable and 
not to be mistaken.” 

“Don’t think me cruel,” faintly probed Stan- 
ley, “but have you any writing of his in your 
pocket that will bear out your statements?” 

The professor’s lips winced with pain and 
the others would have urged the boy to desist 
and leave the man alone, but again the doctor 
surprised them all by tersely commanding, 
“Produce any writing of Roscoe’s you may 
have. Professor Carlton.” 

“Oh, some other time! This is all so pain- 
ful, so useless — ” 

Stanley’s eyes, turned on the doctor, plainly 
said, “Make him.” 

Doctor Royce sharply insisted, “The letters, 
man ! I command you as your medical adviser 
to produce them.” 

With a deep sigh the professor fumbled in 


414 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


his pocket and brought forth several letters and 
with unsteady hand held them out for the boy ^s 
inspection. Snatching them eagerly Stanley 
held them up to the light and placed the note- 
book beside them. Then his face paled and he 
staggered against the plump shoulder of the 
doctor. 

‘^Steady, lad! steady,’’ soothed the doctor in 
a low voice. ^ ‘ What does it all mean 1 ’ ’ 

‘‘Can he bear a shock that would change 
everything?” whispered Stanley. “Could he 
bear to learn that his brother is alive ? ’ ’ 

“Merciful heavens!” gasped the doctor. 
‘ ‘ Could it be I Can it be ? Tell me first. ’ ’ 

‘ ‘ This writing, which he says is his brother ’s, 
and which I am satisfied is his brother’s, now 
that I’ve compared it with the letters, was writ- 
ten in this note-book within a very few days by 
a man we call the gray axeman,” Stanley whis- 
pered in the doctor’s ear. 

“Go, go,” brokenly said the doctor, patting 
the lad’s shoulder. “Take your friends away. 
I will break the news to him gradually and will 
try to arouse only a hope at first. But it must 
be carefully done. Not a word of this to any- 
one.” 


CHAPTER XXII 


THE MASTER SURGEON 

There was but little sleep for tbe boys that 
night. Even before Doctor Eoyce had finished 
his first narrative both the young loggers had 
guessed the truth ; only, it all seemed so impos- 
sible, so wonderfully good that neither cared or 
dared to confide his belief to the other. Early 
next morning Doctor Royce routed them out, 
his manner now being shorn of all eccentricities, 
and in a quick nervous voice informed that Pro- 
fessor Carlton was sleeping. 

“I broke it to him as gently as I could, seek- 
ing to prepare his mind by suggesting that as 
his brother’s body had never been found it 
might be possible that he had escaped death. In 
an instant his mind had outstripped my pur- 
pose of proceeding gradually, and he was 
fiercely demanding that I speak frankly and 
keep nothing back. I told him all that you told 
me. It required all my will power to restrain 
him from running out into the night in a blind 
search. Only by reminding him that I knew 

415 


416 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


but little beyond the fact of your assuring me 
the annotations in the note-book had been made 
recently could I keep him within bounds. For 
the rest of the night it was a duel between us ; 
he insisting I arouse you boys and I pleading 
for daylight. A short time ago he collapsed and 
fell asleep. Now before he awakes I must hear 
the whole story so that I may be ready to meet 
him. ’ ’ 

‘^Then let me call Abner and Foster and the 
Indian to the cook’s camp and tell it once for 
all,” said Stanley. ‘Hf you are positive of the 
writing being Eoscoe Carlton’s there is no ques- 
tion about his being alive up to a few days ago.” 

The loggers were still sleeping peacefully in 
their bunks as it yet lacked an hour of rising 
time. Gently waking the men the boys led the 
way to the cook’s camp, where they found Cub 
sleepily beginning to start the breakfast. He 
greeted them rather peevishly at first, thinking 
they had come to eat. On learning the true sit- 
uation he abandoned his culinary duties and 
observed, ‘‘The breakfast can get itself. I’m 
going to take part in this council of war.” 

Doctor Eoyce then returned to the scaler’s 
camp and in a short time brought back the pro- 
fessor. Under the lamplight the professor’s 
face was drawn and white, but his eyes glowed 


THE MASTER SURGEON 


417 


with a new hope and his whole countenance, in 
spite of his fearful anxiety, was transfigured. 

‘‘DonT tell me youVe made a mistake,’’ he 
pleaded in a broken voice. couldn’t stand 
that. Anything but that ! ’ ’ 

The doctor soothed him and induced him to 
be seated and remove his mackinaw and cap. 
At first the professor rebelled, declaring he was 
about to take to the woods and find his brother. 

‘‘But you must listen to rather a long story,” 
explained Stanley, “before you can know where 
to look. And you will need our help. We will 
save time by going at this problem with a sys- 
tem. ’ ’ 

“A problem,” shivered the professor, as he 
allowed the doctor to remove his coat and cap. 
“I feared as much. There is nothing definite, 
then f You may be mistaken ? ’ ’ 

“Not a bit of a mistake,” stoutly encouraged 
Stanley. “But it takes some method to find a 
man in these big woods. Now I’ll tell you all 
I know.” 

Beginning with their first experience with the 
axeman he described their adventures up to the 
time they found and rescued the men. He 
dwelt with much circumspection on the night 
at the hovel, when the axeman approached their 
lean-to with a torch in his hand, and the ensuing 


418 


THE YOUNH LOGGEES 


incidents along Briar Stream, especially the ad- 
venture at the poplar peelers^ old camp. This 
corroborated his own testimony, for it allowed 
Bub to assert that the man with the torch was 
the same man they had seen in the gully. Then 
both boys assured that Spar had lost the iden- 
tical note-book, now before them, the night be- 
fore they had recovered it from the axeman, 
thus proving beyond the shadow of a doubt that 
the entries made in Eoscoe Carlton’s handwrit- 
ing must have been made within the week. 

You have presented the case with the great- 
est lucidity,” complimented the doctor. ‘‘Now 
let us hear from the men.” 

Abner spoke first, covering those minor points 
which the boys had omitted or which had come 
under his exclusive observation. He was fol- 
lowed by the old trapper and Noisy Charlie. 
This furnished the doctor and the white-faced 
professor with all the data the men and the boys 
possessed. 

Eecurring to the night when Stanley had been 
in the cave and had an opportunity to closely 
observe the axeman the doctor cross-examined 
him shrewdly. Stanley’s description of the 
man satisfied both his questioner and the pro- 
fessor that the gray axeman could be no other 
than Eoscoe Carlton. 


THE MASTEK SUEGEON 


419 


‘‘Everything bears it out,’’ excitedly cried the 
professor. “His love for the trees, his mania 
for saving them from destruction, his love for 
music and his great talent as a player on the 
violin. But how could he have wandered up 
here without being observed T’ 

“That need not worry us,” soothed the doc- 
tor, ‘ ‘ since we know he is here. While waiting 
for us to arrive from the west he was kept in 
seclusion near Dead Eiver across the New 
Hampshire line. We both agreed this would be 
better for him as his mania seemed to demand 
a natural environment. When he was sup- 
posed to have been drowned in the river he es- 
caped and made his way to the east and entered 
Maine, moving on a line a little north of the 
Eangeleys. We know he is an experienced 
woodsman. Aside from his mania to prevent 
loggers destroying the forests he would use all 
his knowledge of the woods as normally as 
though he were in possession of all his faculties. 
He did not hesitate to appropriate to himself 
any supplies he might find in camps. Viewing 
the loggers as enemies to society he would feel 
no compunctions in doing this. Actuated by the 
same lofty principle — for to him it was a holy 
duty — he even resorted to violence in the shape 
of traps and overhanging branches, trees partly 


420 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


felled,, to drive back the intruders and invaders. 
His true nature is shown in his kindly care of 
Stanley, when he found him senseless and in- 
jured. Eemember this, please, as it will aid us 
in finding and reclaiming him; in all that per- 
tains to woodcraft, to arranging shelter and 
procuring food, he will act as normally and as 
shrewdly as any veteran woodsman would. We 
must use a great deal of prudence in seeking to 
capture him, or he may take fright and retreat 
still farther into the woods. ’ ’ 

‘‘Your words discourage me,’’ groaned the 
professor. “If I could only see him and speak 
his name — ” 

“He wouldn’t recognize you,” broke in the 
doctor. ‘ ‘ He does not remember his name. He 
has no recollection of the past. He is living 
for one great purpose — to save the forests. 
Until he has been placed under restraint and 
subjected to skilful treatment — namely an op- 
eration — he will be the gray axeman and not 
Eoscoe Carlton. But once the pressure is re- 
moved I haven’t the slightest doubt but what 
he will come out from under the influence of the 
anaesthetic as Eoscoe Carlton, with no recollec- 
tion of what has happened since he was injured 
by the falling branch. I will stake my profes- 
sional reputation on that.” 


THE MASTER SURGEON 


421 


‘ ‘ Then I say that there ’ll be no more logging 
on Mt. Crow till the poor dear is yarded and 
hauled out to the landing,” cried Hogan, who 
had entered unobserved and had overheard the 
doctor’s remarks. 

‘‘I don’t think it will be prudent to take the 
loggers with us,” remonstrated the doctor. 
‘‘They might cause him to retreat far to the 
north. Of course we’d be glad of your help, 
Hogan; but a Frenchman, with the jangling 
equipment of nerves that Pierre displays, is no 
man to send on such a delicate mission. I ad- 
vise that no one, except us here, take part in the 
search. Leave them to work the logs. ’ ’ 

“Then they must cook their own grub for 
I’m going with the searching party,” stoutly 
informed Cub. 

“Fat boy make big medicine. Him must 
go,” spoke the Indian. “Fat boy say catch 
wildman with music made on um fiddle. ’ ’ 

“Good! The only logical, sensible sugges- 
tion we’ve received,” cried the doctor. 

“The credit is all Cub’s,” said Stanley. 
“We forgot to mention it. That’s why we had 
the tote-man bring up a violin from the Squaw- 
tooth camp. We’d planned to trap the axeman 
after you and the professor had completed your 
visit. ’ ’ 


422 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


must examine that boy’s head very care- 
fully. Norma occipitalis/* murmured the doc- 
tor. 

‘‘But can’t we start? Can’t we he doing 
something?” feverishly cried the professor. 

“We’re doing something now,” calmed Abner 
gently. “It’s no use to go off half-cocked. W e 
must locate Mr. Carlton before trying to catch 
him.” 

“I suggest that some of us older ones take a 
cruise towards Briar Stream and the Squaw- 
tooth and strike his trail. One can go that way, 
while another scouts round the mountain and 
sees if he’s returned to his old quarters, the 
cave,” advised the old trapper. 

“If he returns and finds the cave as we left 
it he might take alarm and abandon it for 
good,” said Stanley. 

“Or he may not return at all,” added Bub. 

The professor gave way to new fears on hear- 
ing these words; but Cub cheered him up by 
asking, “Was his violin at the cave?” And 
on receiving an affirmative he declared, “Then 
he will return, if only to get that. Someone 
ought to hasten over there and see if the violin 
has been removed. If it hasn’t you’re sure of 
catching him when he comes back for it.” 

“I will measure that boy’s head,” roared the 


THE MASTER SURGEON 


423 


doctor. ^‘His logic is astounding. Of course 
that^s what we must do. Someone must go 
now to hold the fort till the rest of us arrive. 
Then we ^11 camp there, first having decided on 
some plan of capturing him through the medium 
of the violin.’’ 

^‘Me go,” simply otfered Charlie. “Now 
know axeman poor hurt man and no um bad 
spirit me move like lynx. Him no see me.” 
And rising he picked up a coil of rope and 
passed through the door. 

“No danger of Mr. Carlton seeing him and 
taking fright!” asked the doctor. 

The quiet chuckle that this anxious query 
evoked satisfied the doctor he was needlessly 
alarmed, even before Abner had a chance to 
drawl, “Doctor Royce, that Injun can move 
quieter than his shadder. Don’t think for a 
minute but what he can run circles round 
Mr. Carlton without ever being seen. When 
he was afraid the axeman was a ‘bad spirit’ 
he wasn’t his old, cunning self. Now he knows 
he has to do with a poor, unfortunate gentle- 
man he’ll be as sly as a puss stalking a bird.” 

“But the rest of us are woefully inactive,” 
complained the professor. “I must do some- 
thing. I simply must start doing something.” 

“The best thing you can do is to eat some 


424 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


breakfast,’’ kindly but firmly prescribed Doc- 
tor Eoyce. ‘ ‘ We won ’t move an inch till you ’ve 
had two cups of coffee and some food. I don’t 
care to have two Carltons on my professional 
hands at once. Cub, set out some food. We’ll 
all eat.” 

At first Professor Carlton rebelled, emphatic- 
ally declaring he would not touch food till his 
brother had been found. But the doctor’s 
quiet insistence won the day, and against his 
will he drank his coffee and hurriedly devoured 
what Cub set before him. 

‘‘Now we can start,” announced Foster. 
“Fetch along the fiddle. Cub. We’ll lay our 
plans as we travel.” 

Abner blew the horn and informed the log- 
gers their breakfast was partly cooked and that 
they must get the rest of it. He added that 
they were to cook their own dinner and sup- 
per and take it easy with the work. Then the 
little party set forth. 

“I’ll wager that Cub Blaine forgot to put 
up any grub,” groaned Abner as they struck 
into the woods. 

“Those two packs are filled to the brim,” 
comforted Cub, pointing to the packs carried 
by the old trapper and Bub. 

Keassured, Abner sought to evolve a plan 


THE MASTER SURGEON 


425 


wherein the violin could play a successful part. 
Owing to the doctor ^s inability to hurry they 
had ample opportunity to discuss this point be- 
fore rounding the first spur of the mountain. 
It was Stanley who offered the most practical 
suggestion, so the doctor ruled. 

He said : ‘ H advise that all of us but Charlie 
take up our quarters in the cave. Charlie shall 
remain outside. When he hears the axeman — 
I mean, Mr. Carlton — approaching he can give 
us a signal. When we get the signal either Cub 
or I will begin playing on the violin. Mr. 
Carlton will either approach the cave, fascin- 
ated by the music, and we can throw ropes 
around him and tie him; or he’ll smell a trap 
and run. But the sound of the music will hold 
his attention long enough for Charlie to steal 
up behind him with his rope. If he refuses 
to enter the cave, Charlie can rope him and we 
can rush out to his assistance.” 

This plan was agreed upon. Arriving at the 
cave they were met by Charlie, who reported 
no signs of the missing patient. The profes- 
sor was much moved on entering the rough place 
so long occupied by his unfortunate brother. 
Abner advised against the building of a fire 
unless they withdrew some distance into the 
wood. Foster and Charlie offered to cruise 


426 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


south and return with ample warning of Carl- 
ton’s coming and urged the others to draw back 
into some sheltered spot and make themselves 
comfortable with a blaze. This was done. But 
it was not until the edge of dusk that the two 
men returned, bearing word that the axeman 
was making for the cave. 

The entire party at once repaired to the cave, 
the old trapper pausing only to heap snow on 
the fire. Then Charlie took up his position on 
the ledge above, first arranging the rope so Mr. 
Carlton would find it as he had left it, or 
dangling from the tree. 

Professor Carlton was shivering and shaking 
under the suspense, but when Charlie ’s squirrel 
chattering — the signal agreed upon — ^was heard, 
he braced his nerves and controlled himself. 

On hearing the signal Stanley tucked the vio- 
lin under his chin and began playing ‘‘Hearts 
and Flowers.” At first his hand was unsteady 
and his touch uncertain. Then as he realized 
how much depended upon him he became calm 
and played his best. None in the cave could 
know what was taking place outside and could 
only pray for success. 

Noisy Charlie, concealed upon the ledge, be- 
held the gaunt figure silently creeping along the 
winding shelf of rock, staring straight ahead 


THE MASTER SURGEON 


427 


where his rope would afford him a convenient 
descent down the ledge. The strains of the vio- 
lin seemed to hypnotize him and draw him for- 
ward. It was obvious he had no thought for 
aught but the music. Slowly and silently as a 
shadow he drew abreast of the Indian and the 
latter’s bronzed fingers gripped the noosed rope 
convulsively. He could with one movement 
drop the nopse over the man’s head, binding his 
arms fast. Yet he hesitated. The violin was 
doing its work beautifully and it might be 
possible to capture the man without any vio- 
lence. 

Passing him Mr. Carlton seized the rope and 
with a few strong efforts reached the branches 
and swung himself into the tree. Noisy Char- 
lie stole from his covert and made ready to fol- 
low him. It was no part of his programme to 
allow the man to get beyond his reach. But in- 
stead of planning to gain the tree by the rope he 
decided to make the trunk by a desperate leap, 
thus not betraying his presence until at the very 
back of the axeman. 

He crouched ready for the spring, when from 
the cave below came the sound of a faint cough. 
In an instant Mr. Carlton had whirled on his 
perch, intent on returning to the ledge and es- 
caping through the darkness. With a hoarse 


428 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


cry of disappointment the Indian straightened 
and leaped for the tree-trunk. 

He struck fairly against Mr. Carlton’s shoul- 
ders, knocking him to the ground. In a second 
he had dropped beside him, but the figure lay 
very still, and he knew there was no further need 
of him. 

‘‘What’s the matter?” cried the terrified pro- 
fessor, stumbling forth from the cave. 

“Him git scared at cough and try to make-um 
off to woods. I catch um and him fall,” ex- 
plained Charlie. 

“Oh, heavens! Can he be dead, dead?” 
wailed the professor. 

“He lives! he lives!” roared the doctor. 
“Someone build a fire quick! He’s only 
stunned. Stand ready with the ropes to tie him 
up when he comes to.” 

They tenderly carried the inert body inside 
the cave, where Abner already was kindling a 
blaze in the fireplace. By the light of the flames 
the doctor quickly made an examination of the 
unconscious man’s head. 

“A very nasty thump on the skull,” he mut- 
tered, his eyes taking on a peculiar glint. “I 
want all of you to remain very quiet when he 
regains his senses. Professor, you’re to keep in 
the background. ’ ’ 


THE MASTER SURGEON 


429 


Then slowly the injured man opened his eyes, 
and as the fire shone full on his haggard face 
the boys noticed his gaze was one of complete 
bewilderment. 

‘‘How cold and dark it is!” he murmured. 
“Where are the men? What has happened to 
me? Ah, I remember. Someone cried for me 
to stand from under. Something must have 
struck me on the head. Why, iUs night! I 
must have been unconscious for hours. What ! 
Doctor Royce! How came you here? I 
thought you were in Colorado with my 
brother ! ’ ’ 

“Good heavens! He’s recovered his reason,” 
choked Bub in Stanley’s ear. 

“Roscoe, remain very quiet while I tell you 
something,” soothed the doctor. “I found you 
unconscious and expected to perform a slight 
operation to remove a pressure from the brain. 
It seems nature has done the work for me. The 
fall has cured you.” 

“How so, when I’ve only had one injury?” 
weakly puzzled Mr. Carlton. “And, Doctor, 
you’re wrong. I didn’t fall. Something fell 
on my head. ’ ’ 

Then very quietly the doctor explained how 
his patient had been unconscious for some time. 
Oh, much longer than he had imagined; and 


430 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


then by gradual enlargements he informed his 
patient it was winter and not early fall. After 
this realization had been set in motion he al- 
lowed Professor Carlton to approach. 


CHAPTER XXIII 


CONCLUSION 

Having prepared his patient ^s mind by easy 
stages Doctor Royce grew more definite in his 
statements, and by degrees cleared away all the 
bewilderment. The doctor rejoiced to observe 
that Mr. Carlton bore up amazingly well under 
the startling situation, thanks largely to his 
perfect physical health. 

After he had quite recovered and had talked 
long and earnestly with his brother the differ- 
ent members of the party were introduced and 
preparations made for the return trip to camp. 
Although he persisted he felt able to walk the 
distance the doctor insisted that a litter be 
formed and the patient lie down upon it. This 
was speedily accomplished, and, covered with 
blankets brought for the occasion, the afflicted 
man was slowly borne to the camp, the men re- 
lieving each other at frequent intervals. 

By the time they arrived and had carried him 
into the scaler’s camp and Cub had hastened to 
prepare hot coffee and food for the entire party, 

431 


432 


THE YOUNG LOGGERS 


Mr. Carlton was ready to talk with complete 
coherency. He remembered nothing except that 
someone had cried out a warning — then came 
darkness. He marveled at his uncouth appear- 
ance and garments made of feed bags. He had 
no recollection of entering Maine and making 
Mt. Crow. All that had happened since his ac- 
cident was a blank to him. 

Then the delighted doctor explained how his 
fall from the tree happened to remove the very 
pressure he had planned to remedy with the 
surgeon’s skill. So far as his practised eye 
and delicate sense of touch could ascertain the 
man’s recovery was complete, and beyond a sore 
head he would be his old self by morning. To 
Professor Carlton it was all a miracle, and he 
could scarcely make it seem real. 

‘‘To these two boys, who befriended me once 
before this, and to a third lad, now cooking our 
supper, you owe everything,” he tenderly ex- 
plained to his brother. “These men, noble in 
their unselfishness, have aided in your recov- 
ery to a remarkable degree.” 

Mr. Carlton insisted on shaking hands with 
each member of the group once more. Then he 
began asking questions, the shrewdness of which 
evidenced beyond all doubt that his mind was 
in full control again. It fell to the boys and the 


CONCLUSION 


433 


three men to answer almost all of these queries, 
as they concerned things the professor and the 
doctor knew nothing about at firsthand. 

No mention was made by either of the lads 
or the veterans of the gray axeman ^s attempts 
to turn back the loggers by means of ‘‘widow- 
makers,’’ and the like; although Stanley, amid 
much happy laughter, declared the Great North- 
ern would present a bill for stolen provisions. 

“Mercy me!” gasped the surprised patient. 
“To think I should steal!” 

“We didn’t call it that,” Stanley relented. 
“We called it living off the country.” Then 
he told how he and Bub encountered the rabbit 
snares. But what interested Mr. Carlton the 
most was the mention of Spar’s note-book, and 
he insisted on seeing it. As he read his an- 
notations in the same, his gaunt, unshaven face 
crimsoned with shame and he lamented ; 

“To think, even when I was out of my mind, I 
should have so severely criticised a worthy 
man’s work.” 

“After having nerve enough to swipe the 
book that isn’t surprising,” Bub set them all 
into a roar by remarking. 

Mr. Carlton joined in the merriment; but in- 
sisted that his entries be erased where they were 
not thoroughly complimentary. Dr. Eoyce, 


434 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


now that all suspense was over, deported him- 
self like a mischievous school-boy, and sent the 
Frenchman scuttling into the bunk-house by 
popping out upon him suddenly. For the rest 
of the evening poor Pierre refused to leave the 
room. 

When Cub brought in the invalid’s supper he 
invited the others to return to the cook’s camp 
and eat. Leaving the professor to wait on his 
brother the happy party hastened to assail the 
meal. In a few words Abner explained to the 
loggers just what had happened, and they gave 
three ringing cheers and heartily promised to 
finish the logging in record-breaking time. 

Then the doctor delighted everyone by invit- 
ing himself to sing a song and threatening to 
examine the first man most thoroughly who re- 
fused to do likewise or tell a story. It was a 
late hour when the gathering broke up. 

‘‘Now I’ll look at my patient and turn in,” 
said the doctor as they were separating to seek 
their bunks. “All he needs is a little rest.” 

“He needs food, sir,” cried Abner. “He 
needs something hearty. If ye know yer busi- 
ness ye’ll take him in a pail of hot coffee, half 
a dozen doughtnuts and a couple o’ pies fer him 
to lunch on, providing he should wake up in the 
night and feel a gnawing pain under his belt.” 


CONCLUSION 435 

After Stanley returned to his school he re- 
ceived a letter, which read as follows : 

My dear boy, 

IVe tried many times to thank you and the 
other lads for all you Ve done for me. You did 
more than to save my life. Each time IVe en- 
deavored to express something of my gratitude 
I find I haven’t accomplished my desire. I am 
beginning to think it’s no use. 

Now that the good doctor and my brother have 
explained things more fully to me I can vaguely 
appreciate how much sturdiness and manliness 
you three possessed to endure what you did 
from my insane actions. I have thought right 
along that sometime I should have some recol- 
lections of those months spent in the Maine 
woods. It’s as blank as ever, and Dr. Eoyce 
says I shall never recall them. Doubtless it is 
just as well. 

I have endeavored to discover some way by 
which I can show my gratitude to Mr. Whitten, 
Mr. Farnum and that noble fellow, the Indian. 
But alas for all my plans ! I find you all are 
better equipped with worldly goods than I, and 
need nothing of a material nature. So I must 
rest content with remembering all of you each 
day and hoping to see you all again soon. 


436 


THE YOUNG LOGGEES 


I have accepted an offer to deliver some lec- 
tures at the U. of M. this coming spring and 
fall; and having explained fully to the presi- 
dent of that University how much I am in- 
debted to two of his students, it is permitted 
me to name my course of lectures, ‘‘The 
Thomas-Blaine Course.’’ I know this will 
please the boys, and I am powerless to express 
my appreciation in any more substantial way. 
For you, my dear boy, I can think of only one 
thing as a memento of your service to me. Un- 
der separate cover I am sending you the violin, 
with which I entertained you in the cave. Keep 
it as a reminder of my everlasting gratitude, 
and believe me, always affectionately, 

Eoscoe Caklton. 


THE END 




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